And Dance By the Light of the Moon
by atypicalsnowman
Summary: COMPLETE! A Snarry take on It's a Wonderful Life. For Severus life, is just one long chain, and Harry is the only bright spot in the darkness. Just when life threatens to strangle him, to destroy everything he cares for, help comes from an unlikely source
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and make nothing from this work of fiction.

Warnings: This story is rated M and will feature the pairing of Severus and Harry.

Notes for this chapter: This story is complete and will be updated every three days for six chapters. For those of you who are wondering about Pains and Contradictions, I'm rereading the last few chapters right now in order to get back into flow and then I'll be writing non-stop until it's done. No more fests and no more fics on the side. It's P&C here on out until it's completely over.

Author's Notes: Written for the Severus Sighs Grand Challenge!

It's done! The idea for this fic came to me around Christmas time in 2008. Since then, it's undergone numerous plot changes and word count estimations, but I couldn't shake the idea of Severus Snape mirroring George Bailey. Thanks must go to RaeWhit for her help as a 'full service' beta. Thank you so much for your patience, darling. Thanks must also go to Torina, who told me I wasn't insane two years ago when I first shared my idea, and helped me with the plot development. And of course, eternal gratitude to WhiteCotton for helping me rework the plot all those months ago, and helping with story development every step of the way. Ladies, I'm so grateful.

* * *

"Do not spoil what you have by desiring what you have not; remember that what you now have was once among the things you only hoped for." - Epicurus

"From Severus: love of family, love of truth, love of justice...his confidence in the affection of his friends, his frankness with those who met with his censure, and open likes and dislikes so that his friends did not need to guess at his wishes." - Marcus Aurelius

Humming and chewing on a sliver of sherbet lemon, Albus Dumbledore took a leisurely walk through Paradise, nodding and smiling at friends and acquaintances as he passed them. Paradise was a very large place, after all, and it was always good to see old friends.

He paused and a thoughtful look crossed his features. When he thought about it, it had been some time since he'd checked on those he'd left behind in life. He stopped and sat on an old bench and pulled another sherbet from his self-filling bag—it had been a part of his eternal reward when he'd reached Paradise—and began to think on whom he'd like to check. He waved a hand in front of his face and the clouds parted, forming a window that showed him exactly whom he'd like to see.

Oh and what luck! Not having bothered to care for the date down on Earth, he'd lucked into checking on his friends on January the eight, the day prior to his good friend Severus' birthday. Perhaps he'd bear witness to the preparations for a surprise party. Oh, Severus would love that, he thought with a laugh. His smile grew as he took in the beauty of the castle in winter, of snow-covered trees and shoddily stacked snowmen no doubt built by lingering students. With a warmth growing in his heart, he looked in on Minerva first.

A mist lifted and he smiled down on his old friend, only to find her pacing the floor of her office, muttering to herself and wringing her hands. He frowned and listened in, hearing her mutter, "Oh Merlin, what can we do?"

Behind her was Filius, who seemed to be in the middle of casting a very strong Summoning Charm. He watched for a moment as Filius frantically cast the spell, despair overtaking his face when it didn't work.

Frowning now, Dumbledore checked in with Harry—because trouble always had a way of finding his youngest friend—and felt a chill run down his spine. If his heart had still been beating, he was sure it would have stopped at the sight of Harry's face.

Paler than he had ever seen him before, Harry appeared terrified. His eyes looked lost, his jaw clenched, and it occurred to Dumbledore that Harry hadn't seemed this fearful even before the final battle with Voldemort.

What had happened, he thought to himself when suddenly Harry's lips began to move. Dumbledore looked closer and began to listen, just catching the end of Harry's plea.

"God," he whispered softly. "If there is a God...please help us. I don't know what to do and I love him—" his voice broke off as his throat clenched and then he looked away, saying no more.

Troubled, Dumbledore sat back and realized where the trouble must be coming from. Quickly, he turned back the clock on his little window, watching the day's events unfold, shocked and horrified by what had happened.

"Albus?"

Dumbledore turned to his left and watched as Sirius Black came to stand next to him, a worried frown twisting his features.

"Is everything all right? You look...troubled. What's the matter?"

"Severus," he responded and Sirius heard the weight of just that one word.

"What do you mean?" Sirius asked tentatively, which was only fair. After all, this _was_ Paradise.

"Severus is in trouble, and I'm not sure I can help him."

Sirius looked at him oddly, then at the view of the world where Dumbledore's window was still open, saw Snape and grimaced.

"Merlin, he's still an ugly bastard."

"He is my friend and he needs my help." Dumbledore sighed and rubbed his temples, his shoulders slumped.

Sirius thought for a moment, then said, "You could go down, Albus. There's no rule that says you can't...especially if he's in such a bad way."

Dumbledore shook his head, his hand still covering his face. "No," he said, feeling a bit lost. "No, there is too much history between us, and there would be too much distraction if I were to go down. Besides, he's heard everything he needs to hear from me before. No, he needs someone new, someone who doesn't know him so well."

Sirius frowned and bounced on the balls of his feet, looking at Snape, and suddenly grinned. Here was an opportunity for some fun, landing right at his feet!

"Hey, I can go down! I'm sure there's nothing old Snape can get into that I can't get him out of."

Dumbledore glared at Sirius until he stopped his bouncing and sat down next to him.

Assuming the air of one properly chastised—yet not feeling so—Sirius sat in silence for another moment. He knew he should feel sympathy for Snape, but he couldn't really. After all, it was _Snivellus_ and why should he help him? Then roguishness stirred in him and he couldn't help himself. "How about Grindelwald?" he asked, looking at Dumbledore out of the corner of his eye, aiming for nonchalance and failing.

"Gellert?" Dumbledore asked, dumbfounded.

"Yeah, well you know he's still trying to make up for all the things he did while he was alive. How he ended up here—"

"Repentance," Dumbledore interrupted before Sirius could make more of a fool of himself, "is not a thing to underestimate. And no," he said thoughtfully, "no, I don't believe Gellert will be able to help Severus. If anything, Severus would recognize him and sound an alarm. Then where would we be?"

"I didn't think of that," Sirius grumbled, then looked through Dumbledore's window to see Snape again. Merlin but he was still ugly! "Does he still not wash his hair?"

"This is nothing to laugh at, Sirius."

Frowning, Sirius ran a hand through his well-coiffed hair and asked, "Well, why don't you just look on the list of Guardians? There's got to be someone who can help Snape."

"Hmm," Dumbledore said with a sudden smile, only now realizing the obvious. He took off his hat and reached into its depths, removing a very thick scroll. He opened it and watched as the end tumbled out and onto the floor.

Sirius looked at the hat, fascinated. "I don't suppose you've got a record player in there, have you? Or my motorbike?"

Dumbledore frowned and began to read the list, adjusting his glasses and steadfastly ignoring Sirius.

Sirius took one look at the list and whistled. "Greatest do-gooders in history, I see. Of course, if you really want someone to motivate Snape, we could always see if Bellatrix is willing to leave The Void for a few hours—"

"No, I don't believe that will be necessary," Dumbledore said with a dark, yet wistful, grin. He stared at Sirius for a moment, wondering what Paradise would be like once Severus joined them, then shuddered as he imagined the prank war. Scoffing, he looked down at the list and read the first few names, encouraged to say the least.

"I have to say I'm very reassured by this. Look, there's Mother Teresa. I'm sure Severus would listen to her."

Sirius gave him one of his looks, the one that informed Dumbledore he was an absolute idiot without having to say it. "Are you mad? Mother Teresa? He'd chew her to bits and leave her a crying, shaking mess!"

Dumbledore frowned and countered with, "The lady did endure quite a bit during her life."

"She didn't endure Snape."

They were quiet for a moment before Dumbledore conceded with a nod. "Moving on. Ah, Florence Nightingale! There was never a man in need of such a kind soul."

"Nightingale, right. Wasn't she a nurse?"

"Yes, and a great one."

"Hmm, yeah," he said, again peering into Dumbledore's window. "Are we looking at the same man, Albus?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Because I'll wager she takes one look at Snape before she puts him in bed for jaundice and Merlin knows what else."

Dumbledore opened his mouth to argue, then snapped it shut. "Perhaps you're right at that."

Dumbledore began to look over the top of the list again, reading some of the oldest names in history, and his smile grew as he thought of one of them helping his friend.

Sirius watched him, thinking it really was a waste of time and effort to expend it on Snape. Maybe the bastard wasn't _evil_ per se, but that didn't mean he was worth saving. While Dumbledore thought Snape deserved the help of the great and good of Paradise, Sirius did not. It was just too..._Snape_ to take seriously. Suddenly, an idea for mischief occurred to him, and he eyed Dumbledore from beneath his fringe, making sure he wasn't looking. Satisfied the old coot was busy at the top, Sirius picked up the bottom end.

"Any of these people would be able to help Severus. Can you imagine it, Sirius? Imagine all the good..." he trailed off as he caught sight of Sirius' mischievous smile. He'd seen it enough times at Hogwarts to know a prankster's smile when he saw it, but it had been there one instant and gone the next, so he wasn't certain it had really been there at all.

He went back to reading from the list. "I believe he'd listen to St. Thomas Aquinas."

Sirius waved his hand dismissively. "No, too much of a stuffed shirt. Snape would run right over him."

"Socrates perhaps? Surely Severus would respect such a great thinker."

"No, they'd end up talking about philosophy and Socrates would ask Snape too many questions and then he'd kill him."

"Hmm. Mahatma Gandhi?"

Sirius considered Dumbledore with a raised eyebrow for a moment as they both realized that a peacekeeper was not exactly who they needed on this mission. Dumbledore frowned and played with his beard, lost in thought as Sirius glanced down at the bottom of the list again. If he played this right, he could sit back, guaranteed many hours of Snape-baiting by simply pointing out a name.

"Oh, here's a good one," Sirius said, tapping at the last name on the list. "What about Cedric Diggory?"

Dumbledore frowned, then looked to where he was pointing.

"Cedric is on this list? He can't be a Guardian; he hasn't been dead long enough."

"Well..." Sirius started and began pulling the list from Dumbledore's hands. "He's in training to become a Guardian. He just doesn't have his wings yet."

Dumbledore snatched his list back, again going over the names of men and women who had proven themselves throughout history.

But Sirius was determined to have his fun.

"Plus, he knows Snape and he knows Hogwarts!" Sirius said loudly, taking the list from Dumbledore again. "You're not going to just drop him on Hogwarts and say, 'Oh by the way, there's magic.' Most of the people on this list are Muggles, Albus. It'd take far too long just to acquaint them with idea that there was an entire world they didn't know about in life."

This was true, Dumbledore thought, as he began to scan the list for wizards, someone who would be better acquainted with their world.

"Also, what do you think's going to happen if you drop..." he stopped to look at a random name, "Moses on the modern world? Even the Wizarding world has running water."

With a sigh, Dumbledore rubbed his temples again. What Sirius was saying was true. It was unlikely that a Muggle Guardian would be able to help Severus as much as a wizard could, but when he scanned the list, there were too few wizards on it. Perhaps Sirius was right.

"How do you know Cedric would do it? He hardly knows Severus and, if I recall correctly, Severus had no love for Hufflepuff house."

Seeing some light on the prank horizon, Sirius sat forward. "Hey now, there's a reason why he's on that list. Cedric's a good person and I'm sure he'd love to help Snape. Plus, if he succeeds, that means he'll be the first person in the history of this place to get their wings in under fifty years. And do you have any idea what that will do for his Quidditch game?"

With a scoff, Dumbledore waved a hand and nodded, then put away his list. "Well, Cedric certainly proved his bravery in life. He's going to need every ounce of it now."

The mischievous smile was back and Sirius patted Dumbledore on the shoulder and said, "I'll be right back with him," leaving Dumbledore to wonder if he'd made a terrible mistake.

A few minutes later, Sirius was back with Cedric in tow, a brilliant smile on his face, a smile that hadn't diminished a bit since he'd arrived in Paradise, and an even more brilliant broom in his hand.

Sirius hadn't told Cedric what was so important that he had to leave the pitch immediately, but he hadn't missed the hum of excitement as they'd ridden here. Obviously, whatever it was, it was good news, so he sat down next to Dumbledore, eager and cheerful.

"Hello, Headmaster. You wanted to see me?"

"Yes, I did. It's good to see you, my boy. I've heard you're one of the best Seekers in your Quidditch league. I'm glad to hear it."

Cedric demurred at that and looked down at his shoes. "Well, I'm probably one of the best on a broom, but that hardly matters when most of the Seekers have their wings already. It's a bit difficult to maneuver when the other guy can just swoop to catch the Snitch," he said, making a downward motion with his hands that conveyed his disappointment at his situation.

Dumbledore reached out to take the broom, and Cedric handed it over for his perusal. "This is a very nice broom. Is it fast?"

Smiling despite himself, Cedric nodded. "Fastest ever made. It was part of my eternal reward. I'm grateful for it, really, but...it's nothing compared to having wings."

Dumbledore smiled, then looked at the window again. "Yes, I imagine it's difficult to keep up. I may have a solution to your problem."

"Oh?" Cedric said, immediately cheering. "Is this about my being a Guardian?"

"Yes," Dumbledore said, looking behind Cedric to Sirius, who was almost vibrating in anticipation. "Do you remember Professor Snape from Hogwarts?"

"Yeah, I do," Cedric said, his eyebrows drawing together in a glower. "Is that what this is about? Is Professor Snape in trouble?"

He said this with the kind of concern that only the truly righteous can convey and Dumbledore smiled and patted his shoulder. Sirius, however, was not so pleased. But, counting on the Hufflepuff versus Slytherin factor to ensure hijinks and fun was had by all—all except Snape—he let it go.

"Yes, he's in terrible trouble and I believe you may be the best man to help him. Will you?"

Would he? Cedric was hard pushed not to leap up and head down to Professor Snape that second. But he was far more cautious than people thought him, so he kept the feeling inside him. Then, throwing his shoulders back, he didn't hesitate to say, "Absolutely. If he needs my help, then I'll help him. But um..." He dropped his eyes to his shoes again. He was a bit ashamed as he asked, "If I help him...do you think I'll earn my wings? I hate to ask, but...well, it's hard being the only Seeker without them. And I _would_ be earning them. It's not like I'm asking for them outright—"

"Mr. Diggory—Cedric," Dumbledore said with a genuine smile, "if you are able to help Severus, then I believe you'll have earned your wings. Now, as to the problem—"

"Oh, now he doesn't need to hear the whole story, Albus," Sirius said from his spot behind them, eager to get to the fun part. "He's a Seeker! He's used to flying by the seat of his pants—excuse the pun—and saving the day. Just let him get on with it." To say the mischievous smile was back would be an understatement, and Sirius knew it, but he just couldn't seem to take on the serious expressions the other two wore.

Sighing, Dumbledore shook his head. "If you're going to help Severus, then you need to learn quite a bit about him." Looking again at the window, he said, "Time works differently up here than it does down on Earth, but we are still limited by it. By my estimation, we have about four hours before you're going to need to intervene."

Cedric stood up and came around to look through the window, watching as Professor Snape stood in what appeared to be freezing rain by the edge of a lake.

"What's he doing? He looks like he's about to freeze to death."

"I believe that's the idea," Dumbledore said sadly. "At this moment, Severus is seriously thinking about taking his own life."

Even Sirius was silent as the gravity of the situation was stated so plainly, and Cedric again squared his shoulders as if to show his readiness.

"Now," Dumbledore said forcefully, pushing aside all worry to deal with the matter at hand. "In order to know Severus, you have to know about his childhood."

"Oh, here we go again," Sirius muttered. "Let's see how long the 'James and Sirius were bastards' stories last this time."

Clearing his throat, Dumbledore drew Cedric's attention back to himself before starting, "Now Severus didn't have the best childhood, but the most important event—the one that would foreshadow what was to come—happened during the Christmas holiday of his second year."

With a wave of his hand, the picture in the window changed and both Cedric and Sirius leaned close to watch the scene unfold.

* * *

Severus was never more comfortable than when he was stirring a cauldron. The rest of his classmates thought he was an idiot for choosing to stay at Hogwarts for the Christmas holidays when he could have gone home...but they hadn't seen his home.

No, he preferred to stay here and help Professor Slughorn restock his stores of potions for the next term. Here, with most of the students gone and half of those that had stayed sick in the infirmary. There was no one to mock him or hex him or try to trip him in the halls. He could relax for a while and work on his potions technique.

It was the best holiday ever!

Smiling, Severus lifted the cooling cauldron of flu potion and poured it into vials to be sent up to the infirmary. Once he had completed that, he began to chop more horned slugs—making sure that his knife always cut the slug diagonally—until he heard a loud crash coming from Slughorn's office.

He listened for a moment, but when no other noise was forthcoming, he brushed aside his concern and began to chop again, truly happy as he lost himself in his work.

Chop, chop, chop.

It was easy to forget when he was allowed to do what he liked best. It wasn't as though he hated _all_ of his housemates...more that they didn't really like him much. He scowled as the familiar spite and repulsion washed over him and he hated that he'd allowed himself to remember. And he'd been having such a good time, too! He sighed, then gathered up the chopped slug and put them in a bowl for later. Wondering what was taking Professor Slughorn so long, Severus could do nothing more than wash his hands and sit down to wait for him to start the base for the next batch of potions.

Suddenly, a loud crash sounded from Slughorn's office and then a stream of obscenities that had even Severus' ears burning. He'd never heard any professor say things like that, especially not the head of Slytherin.

He looked around cautiously, but there was still no one there. He was alone and Professor Slughorn might need help, only... Only Severus wasn't entirely sure what to do.

Slowly, he stood up from his stool and walked towards Slughorn's office, his steps stopping as an occasional glass broke against a wall. Tentatively, and with no small amount of fear, he raised a hand to knock on the door.

The swearing stopped immediately and an eerie quiet settled over the classroom.

"Professor Slughorn?" Severus asked and even he thought his voice sounded too soft, too fearful. "Are you all right?"

A shuffle was heard and then a nose being blown before Slughorn came out of his office, distraught, his face red.

He took one look at Severus and then barked, "Well, what are you doing standing around, Mr. Snape? Those slugs aren't going to chop themselves!"

"Yes, sir," Severus said as he walked back to his stool, only to stand there idly. He'd already chopped all his slugs. Slughorn seemed out of sorts and Severus had no idea what to do. Should he risk being yelled at in his only sanctuary and perhaps cause the one professor who didn't hate him to turn against him?

"Mr. Snape!" Slughorn called out as he was preparing the base for the flu potion. "Come here and stop dawdling."

Not wanting to point out that he hadn't actually been dawdling, Severus quickly walked over, just in time to watch Professor Slughorn add aconite to the base...when he should have added asphodel.

"Um, Professor—"

"Be quiet, Mr. Snape," he said and rubbed his hand over his face. "Oh, please be quiet, boy," he whispered.

Not wanting to make matters worse, Severus struggled with what to do. He'd never seen Slughorn so upset and something was obviously wrong. If he told him about the aconite, he'd risk being thrown out of the Potions classroom and then where would he be? Potions was the subject he truly loved and Slughorn was his head of house.

But the aconite in that potion would be enough to kill whoever took it.

Gathering his resolve, he watched Slughorn fill vials with the tainted potion before he said, "Professor Slughorn—"

"Did I not tell you to be quiet, Mr. Snape? Now do not open your mouth again or I will be forced to ask you to leave the classroom—until the start of term!"

"Yes, sir," he said meekly and watched as the poison filled every bottle. He paced the room a bit, looking from Slughorn to the potion, wanting to open his mouth to say something, but terrified to do so.

He walked past the desk, and suddenly he saw a letter on St. Mungo's letterhead. Next to it was a spilled bottle of ink, and Severus quickly read the letter, eager to find out what had happened that had Slughorn so upset.

_Professor Slughorn,_

_We regret to inform you that your son, Gerald, died today from pneumonia..._

Severus gulped and left the letter as he'd found it, not bothering to read on, and looked on Professor Slughorn with new eyes. Of course he'd be upset; his son had just died. But that only meant Severus had to tread carefully around him, make sure he didn't harm anyone in his grief.

"Here, Snape," Slughorn said, handing over the tainted potions to Severus. "Take these up to the infirmary and don't dawdle. Those children are ill and we have to brew a few more potions for them."

"Um, Professor—"

"What did I say, boy?" he shouted and Severus hated that his first response was to flinch and back away. "Now go to the infirmary and come right back or you'll lose more than house points!"

Severus didn't want to consider what that meant, and ran up the stairs that led to the other parts of the castle, stopping on the staircase that led to the infirmary.

What should he do? He could take the potions to the mediwitch and tell her he thought they'd been made wrong, but she might not believe him. He could destroy them, but then what would Slughorn say? He wouldn't believe he'd botched a potion and then Severus would be out on his ear, his sanctuary gone.

He looked across the way, to the staircase that led to the headmaster's office, and bit his lip.

It was the best choice, he thought, and ran up the stairs, through the halls and all the way to the headmaster's office. The gargoyle that guarded the door was looking at him funny, but that didn't make the password come any easier.

"I really need to speak with the headmaster."

The gargoyle didn't move.

"I really need to speak with the headmaster, _please_!" It immediately moved to the side and Severus passed it and asked, "Really? 'Please' did it?"

The gargoyle said nothing, and Severus sped up the stairs, pausing to listen in the doorway when he heard voices from within.

"...a new Dark Lord. Frankly, we're too frightened to even speak his name."

"Nonsense," Dumbledore said casually. "The fear of a name increases the fear of the thing itself, gives it more power."

"That's easy for you to say, Dumbledore. You haven't met this man."

"On the contrary," he said, his voice lower, the casual tone gone, "I've not only met Tom Riddle, but I taught him for seven years. I can't say that I foresaw this, but I had my suspicions of his character long ago. That he would turn down the wrong path is not surprising, nor is his ambition."

Tom Riddle, Severus mouthed, and knew he'd heard that name before. But...Tom Riddle wasn't bad. He was just a wizard who stood for the advancement of magic and purity of blood. That last part was a difficult pill for Severus to swallow—being a half-blood and all—but he knew Muggles were less than wizards. That much was obvious to anyone, wasn't it?

"He and all his followers are from Slytherin House, Albus. Now that must mean something," said the other voice, one that Severus had never heard before.

"It means the Ministry's intelligence officers aren't doing their job correctly. There may be several members of that house in his ranks, but no more than any other."

"Now see here, Dumbledore—"

"I will not. Slytherin House builds nothing but ambitious, resourceful leaders who go on to do great things once they leave Hogwarts. Anything else is simply an unfortunate coincidence."

"I have names, Dumbledore. Dozens of names, all from Slytherin House." There was a pause and Severus thought Dumbledore winked at him through the crack in the door. He heard the other man sigh, then say, "The Board of Governors is going to hold a meeting about the future of Slytherin. As headmaster, you have a right to be there, but I warn you, it doesn't look good."

Severus held his breath as he waited for Dumbledore's response. He knew the headmaster had no great love for Slytherin, but he never acted like he hated them the way some of the other professors—and the students of every other house—did.

Shaking his head, his eyes darkening, Dumbledore said, "The minute we begin to turn on any group as a whole is the moment our world falls to pieces."

Breathing a sigh of relief, Severus smiled a bit, his trust in Dumbledore renewed.

A dark chuckle came from the man sitting across from Dumbledore and he said, "You're far too trusting, Albus, but then you've always been an old fool—"

Rage came over Severus at that, rage as he'd only ever felt when Potter and Black were being particularly cruel; he opened the door wide and screamed, "You can't say that about the headmaster!"

"Everything is all right, Severus—"

"No, it's not all right. You don't know anything about Slytherin!"

The man—whom Severus could now see was wearing robes that members of the Board of Governors wore—only smirked and waved a hand as Severus was walked to the door.

"I'll bet you were a Gryffindor, weren't you?" he shouted.

"Through and through," the man said, not bothering to turn to look at him.

"Now, Severus, why don't you go back down to the dungeons like a good lad, hmm?" Dumbledore said, putting a handful of sweets in Severus' pocket.

"But, Professor—"

"Now, don't you worry about him. I'll be sure to set him straight." He crouched down a bit so he could be eye-level with Severus, then he smiled and winked. "You belong to a very noble house, Severus. I'll be sure he knows that before he leaves here. I do thank you for your defense."

Smiling was all Severus could do as he was turned around and tapped on the shoulder, making his way down the winding staircase and back to the dungeons, batch of botched potions still in hand.

It was too late to go to the infirmary now. He'd have to talk to Slughorn and insist that the potions had been made wrong. There was nothing else he could do, but that didn't stop the fear from almost leveling him.

He was about to lose his home.

Slowly, he walked through the door to the Potions classroom, only to see Slughorn kneeling before the Floo.

"No, Madam, those potions should have been there half an hour ago. I'll be sure to find the student responsible and give the proper punishment. Goodbye."

Gulping, Severus slowly walked into the room, instinctively trying to appear as small as possible, but knowing this was one fight he couldn't get out of.

"Professor Slughorn?"

His robes swishing swiftly as he turned, Slughorn glared at Severus and stalked towards him, grabbing the collar of his shirt and dragging him to his potions counter.

"Where have you been, Snape? Do you not realize how sick those children are, how badly they need that medicine?"

"I do, but—"

"Do you realize they could die if they don't receive it, Snape, you stupid, lazy boy!"

Grimacing as the harsh words slammed into him, Severus reminded himself of what needed to be said. Still afraid, he forced himself to say, "Professor, you put the wrong ingredients into this potion."

Slughorn's face twisted in anger and his eyes closed to slits before he shouted, "You...liar! You ungrateful little liar! What are you playing at, boy? What could you possibly stand to gain by such slander?" he shouted as he tugged the collar of Severus' shirt tighter so that it was cutting into his neck.

"Professor, you're hurting me—"

"I want you out, Snape! Out of my classroom and if it were at all possible, out of my house!"

No! Severus thought, and pulled away enough for him to look Slughorn in the eyes.

"Professor, you put the wrong ingredient in the potion. You should have used asphodel but you put aconite. I—I know you were upset and you didn't mean to, but... Please, just look!"

Severus thrust the potions he'd been carrying at Slughorn and, to his great relief, he began to examine them, first noticing the odd color, then removing the stoppers from the vials.

Slowly, he lifted one to his nose and inhaled, then his face went from enraged to shocked, then contrite within moments.

"Oh, Mr. Snape—"

"Please don't kick me out, Professor!"

"Oh no, my dear boy," he said, leaning down and throwing an arm around Severus, much to his astonishment. He'd never seen Slughorn—or any professor for that matter—embrace a student. Severus patted Slughorn tentatively and then hastily concealed a sob of relief that his only sanctuary wasn't to be taken from him.

Everything was going to be all right.

"Mr. Snape—Severus, I'm so sorry. I've—" he broke off and his face became sad again as it had been earlier. "I've received some very bad news and I'm afraid it affected my judgment. I'm so grateful to you, Severus, so incredibly grateful that you caught the error."

"I won't tell anyone," Severus said instinctively, knowing that Slughorn would expect a Slytherin to hold this information over his head. "I promise. I'll never tell a soul."

Slughorn smiled sadly and nodded. "No, I didn't think you would." They held a silent communion for a moment, before Slughorn Banished the vials of tainted potions in their entirety.

"You know, not everyone would have caught that mistake, Mr. Snape," Slughorn said, his voice steadier as he began to make a new base for the flu potion. "You have the makings of a great potions master."

Sitting down on his stool, Severus couldn't help his smile. He'd love to be a potions master; spending all his time in a laboratory, thinking up new potions, finding cures to all sorts of nasty things. He looked around the Potions classroom again, this time with new eyes, and thought there was nothing he'd rather do. With a sigh of relief, he smiled again and began to chop his slugs.

* * *

"I never knew that about Snape," Sirius said, astonished and a bit out of sorts. "Or Slughorn for that matter. Merlin, to think of how many kids stayed at school that winter..."

"Yes," Dumbledore said, allowing the memories of that day to wash over him, with this new information. He felt a chill go down his spine at what might have happened if Severus hadn't been there, then of Severus' own reaction when he'd heard the name Tom Riddle. That had hardly been the beginning of what was to come, but it was as good a place as any to start.

Cedric simply look confused. "So did Professor Snape ever tell anyone?"

Dumbledore shook his head and smiled. "I only learned about it as you did. I'd intended to show you his interaction with that man from the Board, I had no idea..."

Cedric brightened at that, cheered at the thought of being asked to save such a good person. If he were being honest with himself, he thought most—if not all—people were worth saving, but to know he was rescuing someone truly _good_...well, that just made it all the better.

One thing bothered him, though.

"What was all that about Voldemort? It almost seemed as though Professor Snape was..."

"Sympathetic? Oh, he was. In fact..." Dumbledore looked towards the window and watched Severus as he thought exactly how he should tell this next thing to Cedric.

Sirius, however, was ready for the train wreck to take place. He was avidly watching Cedric's face, waiting for the endless supply of enthusiasm to die completely as Dumbledore told him what everyone else already knew.

Sighing, Dumbledore turned to Cedric and realized there was no perfect way to broach this topic. "Upon leaving Hogwarts, Severus joined Voldemort's ranks and became a Death Eater."

Sirius watched with glee as the light of anticipation left Cedric's eyes, only to be replaced by disappointment and—oh yes!—a bit of denial.

"That...seems unlikely." Temporarily thrown, Cedric calmed himself and tried to focus on what he _knew_ to be true. He trusted Headmaster Dumbledore completely and if he said Professor Snape was worthy of saving, then he was.

"What happened?" he asked, knowing that was a ridiculously small question to ask of such an important matter, but asked anyway.

"That...is a long story." Wondering how much he needed to reveal for Cedric to truly understand Severus, Dumbledore decided to start at what he'd always thought of as 'the middle.'

"Did you know there was a prophecy foretelling the fall of Voldemort?"

Cedric's eyes grew a bit wider and he listening intently to every word Dumbledore said. He'd hardly cared about what exactly had happened to Voldemort once he'd arrived in Paradise, and, aside from knowing that he'd been defeated, he hadn't bothered to find out.

Feeling a bit guilty for not taking interest in obviously important matters on Earth, Cedric shook his head and said, "No, I didn't."

"Well, that prophecy alluded to Harry Potter being the only person capable of destroying Voldemort...and it would have been kept secret if Severus hadn't overheard it, then rushed to inform his master."

Cedric was silent as Sirius began to pace the area around the bench frantically.

"But he realized he'd made a mistake, right?" Cedric asked, not wanting to believe someone who had taught him—hell, someone he'd lived with—had been a follower of Voldemort. And this was the man he had to rescue.

"He did. He begged for the chance to save his friend—Harry Potter's mother—from the consequences of his actions. What he didn't realize—what neither of us realized—was that this would be the turning point in his life. In essence, he's been making up for his actions ever since."

Again, Dumbledore waved his hand, but this time Sirius didn't bother to watch.

* * *

Severus rather thought it fit that it was raining.

He didn't bother to charm his robes to ward off the rain or keep the mud from his boots. His felt chilled to the bone, and not only by the weather. The cold wet seeping into his robes allowed him to believe it was the rain that had him feeling frozen in his body, in his soul.

He trudged on, walking the all too familiar path from Hogsmeade to Hogwarts, forcing himself onward in fear.

He could be killed on sight, he realized. Or worse, the wards that surrounded the castle might not even allow him entrance. Had Dumbledore warded the castle to repel those who bore the Dark Mark?

Still, he kept on. This information had to reach Dumbledore. _He_ had to reach Dumbledore.

He approached the outer gates and held his breath as he passed through them, breathing a sigh of relief as he was allowed entry. For a moment, he permitted himself to believe that perhaps the wards had been set to keep away Death Eaters, and they had somehow let him through anyway.

Did there exist wards that read the heart?

Scoffing at himself, his robes now soaked, he ran through the front lawn, and then up the steps that led to the Entrance Hall. Looking around to make sure he hadn't been seen, he took off to the seventh floor, not bothering to hide the sounds his boots made or his ragged breath as he raced down the halls.

He stopped for a moment at the gargoyle and his fear returned, doubled, and he prayed that he would at least be allowed to speak before he was killed. He didn't dare hope for more.

Not sure how to gain entrance—he was no longer a student, after all—he simply stood there for a moment, and his life seemed to flash before his eyes.

How had he gotten to this point? How had he fallen so low that he was now afraid to speak to a man he'd once respected above all others? When had he become a thing which good men fight against?

His body was stiff, his fists clenched, and he knew what he had to do, no matter the consequences.

"Please," he said to no one, not sure for what he was asking. "Please."

The gargoyle leapt aside, just as it had when he'd been a child, and Severus stared at the steps with trepidation.

He waited a moment too long because soon multicolored robes came into view, then a wand and a beard, then finally a face. A face that was twisted in disgust, a stance poised for attack, and Severus had no idea what to say, how to begin. How would Dumbledore ever believe him?

"Headmaster," he started and his voice sounded like a sob.

"Good evening, Severus," he replied, his voice cold and his wand aimed at Severus' heart. "What message do you bring from your master?"

"No," he said, but he was unsure which part of his question he was disagreeing with. "I'm here of my own accord. Headmaster, please—" he sobbed and looked Dumbledore in the eye, praying he would understand.

For a moment he thought he felt the brush of Legilimency, and Severus lowered his shields, allowing everything he felt to be broadcasted for Dumbledore to hear.

_I was wrong._

Cold blue eyes penetrated his, and Severus stood there, waiting to be judged. Then he watched as the hard lines of Dumbledore's face slowly faded, his shoulders relaxing and his wand hand lowering ever so slightly.

Dumbledore blinked and Severus felt him withdraw from his mind, and watched as he lowered his wand. Instantly, Dumbledore's twisted grimace relaxed into a small, relieved smile and his eyes lit up with the kindness Severus had known as a child.

"Oh, my dear boy, " he said, his voice laced with affection. "I'm so very glad you've come home."

* * *

Cedric smiled as he watched Dumbledore catch an errant tear with a finger while Sirius scoffed.

"So he switched sides?" Cedric asked as the window went back to the present, Professor Snape again looking chilled to the bone.

"He did," Dumbledore said, having calmed himself. He'd known what had happened, of course, having been there. To see the event he'd often thought of from Severus' point of view stirred something within him and he was again thankful that his friend had returned.

His determination to save Severus grew impossibly stronger, and he turned to Cedric to begin again.

"Severus failed to save Lily Potter, but Lily's death saved her son's life."

"Harry," Cedric said with a smile, remembering his old classmate with fondness. "So...in a roundabout way, Professor Snape did his part in the war?"

"During the first war, yes. By informing Voldemort of the prophecy, then switching sides and warning the Potters of impending danger, he assured Voldemort centered his focus on Harry. When Lily died, she gave Harry a blood protection that saved him many times in his childhood. Without it, he would've surely—"

"You know, that really shouldn't count," Sirius said, annoyed. He'd heard this argument one too many times and he was getting plain sick of it. "He didn't help during the first war! He was a turncoat, a traitor who turned sides at the very last minute because the only person who ever gave him the time of day in school was in trouble."

"—died," Dumbledore continued as though he hadn't been rudely interrupted. "That was the first war, however. He affected the outcome of the second war in a far more direct way."

Cedric sat straighter and listened intently, eager to find out what he'd missed since he'd died.

"The Final Battle—as it's now called—took place at Hogwarts in Harry Potter's seventh year. It was a terrible battle, and Severus and myself had been separated from Harry. He had been lured to the entrance of the Forbidden Forest while Severus and I were defending the Entrance Hall."

Sirius stopped his scowling to listen. Not that he hadn't seen what had happened—that day was one of the many times he, James and Lily had decided to check in with Harry—but he'd never heard it from Dumbledore's perspective before.

"Were you aware that Draco Malfoy also switched sides that year?" Dumbledore asked Cedric with a grin.

Cedric shook his head, surprised. "No, I wasn't."

"He did," Dumbledore said, a broad smile across his face. "He was with Severus and myself, defending the castle and the students inside from the Death Eaters. His own father tried to kill him, and Severus threw himself on top of Draco, narrowly missed by the killing curse."

Cedric wanted to say he was shocked, but he wasn't. He knew better than to believe every rumor that spread around Hogwarts, but he'd never heard anything good about Lucius Malfoy.

"So he saved Draco's life?" he asked, his respect for Professor Snape growing.

"He did," Dumbledore replied. "Draco was then able to get to Harry, who was battling Voldemort, alone."

"Harry could have handled him fine, even without that little twit's help," Sirius said, hands in his pockets and a scowl across his face.

"I believe the outcome may have been the same," Dumbledore said, thinking again on all the things that could have gone wrong that day. "However, Voldemort wasn't alone; there were several other Death Eaters there. I think help arrived just in time, and Harry was able to destroy Voldemort, for good this time. We must be grateful to Draco, if only for Harry's sake."

Sirius grumbled. "I still think he could have handled him by himself."

Chuckling, Dumbledore turned again to Cedric and thought on how to say this next thing, for it was far more shocking than anything he'd told him so far. It would probably be better to ease the idea onto him, but for the life of him, Dumbledore had no idea how to do that.

No other ideas forthcoming, Dumbledore decided to just come out with it.

"Harry was in love with Severus for some time before the Final Battle."

Cedric made a gasping-cough sort of sound and Sirius pounded him on the back, strictly out of habit.

"I know exactly how you feel," Sirius said with a disappointed sigh. "That's what I said."

"Um, no," Cedric said, still bewildered. "No, it's not that. Professor Snape is a good man—"

"It's okay to hate him, Cedric, really. It's only natural after all—"

"Harry," Dumbledore interrupted before things got out of hand, "fell in love with Severus while they were training during his seventh year. Severus didn't realize it, thought Harry was just a child—"

"He _was_ just a child! Seventeen is no age to be running around with greasy, dirty gits!"

"—but I believe he fell in love with Harry the moment he opened his eyes."

"Oh?" Cedric asked, smiling and trying not to laugh at Sirius. "And when was that?"

Dumbledore smiled and remembered the night in question. It had been an important night for him as well.

"The night of the Victory Ball," he said, with a broad smile. "That was to be Severus' last night in the castle."

"But I thought he loved teaching Potions?" Cedric asked, confused. "He certainly seemed, er, happy enough while in the Potions classroom when he'd been a student."

"Severus loved potions, yes, but not being a teacher. I don't believe he hated the students half as much as he wanted us all to believe, but he did hate teaching."

"Well, then," Cedric started, not sure how to phrase the question, "why did he teach for, what, sixteen years, if he hated it so much?"

Sitting back, his smile fading, Dumbledore thought they were finally approaching the crux of the matter. "Absolution," he said plainly, and for him it was. "For all that he tried to take it back, Severus had been a Death Eater. He _was_ responsible for Lily's and James Potter's deaths and he had much to atone for. He stayed at Hogwarts at my insistence, because we both knew it wasn't over, that Harry would need a protector when the time finally came.

"But all his years in the classroom only served to frustrate Severus. He had large dreams, my boy, very large. That was what tempted him to the Death Eaters in the first place. He didn't only want to be a potions master, he wanted to be the greatest potions master, and the night of the Victory Ball was to be the last night he'd ever see Hogwarts."

Thinking of the professor he'd known, Cedric could easily see how ambition would become frustration for Professor Snape. However, if his desire for greatness had been compelling, what could have stopped him?

He was saved from asking the question as Dumbledore waved a hand, the clouds once again parting.

* * *

Severus snapped the lid of his trunk closed with a contented sigh. Running long-fingered hands over the old, faded leather, he allowed himself a small smile.

He was leaving Hogwarts today, and this time he was never coming back.

Walking to his wardrobe, he took out the fine black robes he'd purchased for this occasion and slipped them on, tossing his hair back and straightening his collar. For the first time in sixteen years, he was at peace with himself, and felt that ought to show. Taking a look around the room, he allowed himself a rather wistful goodbye. Yes, he'd be returning here after the Ball to collect his trunk and a few other belongings, but he knew by then he'd be too eager to shake the dust of this place off himself to say goodbye properly.

Taking one last stroll around his rooms, he quelled the urge to mutter an expletive and instead gave a slight nod of his head.

This was where he'd earned his redemption. This was where he'd made his peace with what he'd done, and now it was time to leave it all behind.

He was leaving Hogwarts today, he repeated to himself. And _this_ time he was never coming back.

Squaring his shoulders, he left his quarters, nodding to the few Slytherin students he passed in the hallway on their way to the Ball. He'd been persuaded to attend by Dumbledore, but truth be told, it hadn't taken much to get him there. Though he'd spent most of the first six years of Harry Potter's school career hating him, Severus felt the need to say a proper goodbye. He'd seen Potter only a few times since the Final Battle, mostly while he was unconscious in the infirmary. Potter had only been released that afternoon, and Severus thought it only courtesy to wait until he was feeling his best to see him. It was only fitting after the year they'd spent together training, forging a very fragile alliance, that he see him one last time before most likely never seeing him again.

He had no idea why that thought bothered him, but he brushed it aside, assuming perhaps it had to do with the natural wistful thinking one does before one leaves a place he'd spent most of his life.

And though he hated to admit it, he had grown somewhat fond of Potter in the last year. By some miracle, the boy had managed to mature a great deal over the previous summer.

When Potter had first begun to ask Severus small, innocuous questions that had nothing to do with Potions or Defense, Severus had grown suspicious and had taken to watching his step in the hallways. Why the devil did Potter care what kind of music he listened to or what he liked to do during the summer holiday?

But Potter had persevered and grown bold in his desire to get to know Severus, who had begrudgingly admitted that it hadn't been a completely terrible experience. He'd always thought Potter was exactly like his father: boorish, cocky, rude and most probably mentally deficient. He was amazed to discover Potter was actually surprisingly humble and eager to learn. As the year progressed and their training sessions became exercises in who could knock the other off their feet first, Potter had always been quick to help Severus up, always so worried and apologetic for doing what Severus had wanted him to do.

He sighed, and thought perhaps he'd owl Potter a postcard at some point, again the idea of never seeing him again causing an unpleasant rumble in his stomach, but he pushed it aside. Obviously his stomach had no idea what was happening today. He drove the thought of Potter to a 'students to remember fondly' file he hadn't known existed in his mind, then turned his thoughts to more important subjects.

Slowly walking up the staircase to the seventh floor corridor, he let his hands drift over the stone walls of the castle, saying goodbye for good to each individual stone, their time together over.

The gargoyle leaped aside for him to enter and he rode the winding staircase to the top, opening the door when he reached it, and finding Minerva and Albus seated around a small table within.

He greeted them with a nod and took note of the bottle and three glasses at the center of the table.

"Severus!" Albus greeted him enthusiastically. "Now that we're all here..." he said, trailing off as he began to pour their drinks.

"I didn't realize I was late," Severus said with no small amount of sarcasm. "What's this in aid of?"

Albus' eyes shone as he began to speak. "A celebratory drink. The war might have ended three weeks ago, but with all your time in the infirmary... Well, we're only able to do this now."

Severus grimaced at that. He _hadn't_ been spending so much time in the infirmary. If patients had needed potions...

"There was no need to do it at all," Severus said even as he picked up his glass with a sigh. Minerva chuckled lowly as she raised her own, and he thought Albus' face must ache from smiling so much.

"What?" Severus barked, turning away from him.

Annoyed, he looked to Minerva for commiseration. As their eyes met, she offered him a smirk, and a moment passed between them. He'd hated her once, but his venom for her had left him long ago, leaving only a feeling of respect and muted affection. That they had never spoken about it didn't matter in the least. For a moment, they acknowledged it and Severus bowed his head, realizing that there was one more person he would miss.

"Severus, Minerva," Albus began, lifting his glass, "in all my planning, in thinking through every scenario...with every step I took these last sixteen years..." his voice broke off and he looked down for a moment before lifting his glass higher. "None of this could have been accomplished without you. And I couldn't have asked for more loyal friends at my side."

She smiled while Severus was silent, relishing the words, memorizing everything about this moment so he could savor it in the years to come.

"Thank you, Albus."

"No, Severus, thank _you_." And with that he raised his glass again. "To true love winning out."

"To the Order of the Phoenix," Minerva countered, then, "to Harry Potter."

"To you, Albus," Severus said, taking his drink. The moment seemed to lengthen as the three of them considered each other, Minerva's severe face softening as she gave each of them a tender smile, Albus' eyes shining as Severus had never seen before, so that he too allowed himself to grin.

The silence stretched out another moment before Albus began to lightly chuckle, then a full-out laugh erupted from him, a joyful, hearty thing that filled up his office and seemed to bounce off the very walls of Hogwarts.

"Oh, Albus," Minerva said even as she took out a handkerchief to dry her eyes through her own light laughter.

Standing there amongst the only friends he'd ever had, Severus allowed himself to feel real joy, joy he hadn't felt since he'd been a child himself, and laughed.

It had been a very long time, so he completely understood the shocked look Minerva threw his way as well as Albus' clapping.

In joyful camaraderie they shared their moment, before Minerva took her leave. "Someone has to watch out for the students," she said, patting Albus, then Severus on the arm. "I'll leave you to it," she said as she left.

"If I were to be completely honest, I wasn't sure I'd live to see this day, Severus," Albus said, taking a seat and looking suddenly tired. "I was sure I'd have to sacrifice myself at some point for some reason or another."

Severus sat down across from him and took another drink. "Nonsense. You'll outlive us all, Albus." He looked down at his glass and said, "Although I do share your sentiment. I thought I'd never live to see the end of that monster."

"You did all you set out to do, Severus, and more. Lily Potter's death has been avenged, you've earned your atonement."

Severus sat staring at his glass and gave a small nod, not wanting to look at Albus just yet. The feeling of finally gaining what he'd been aching for for so long was still so new, he hardly knew how to respond to that.

"And her son has a bright future, thanks to you."

"If he doesn't forget everything I taught him, he might not fail completely, yes," Severus said, the scowl returning to his face automatically. He'd been wearing it so long, he wondered if it would ever truly leave him, now that peace was within reach.

"He's leaving here tomorrow, you know," Albus said, and Severus didn't need to look at his face to confirm his smile. "He's going to study defense privately under Kingsley and a few others, though I doubt he'll become an Auror."

"I would hope not," Severus said and this time he did look at Albus. "I didn't spend all that time training him so he could become the Ministry's poster boy."

"I'm sure he won't disappoint you," Albus said with a smile, before clearing his throat and asking, "You're leaving here tomorrow as well?"

"Tonight," Severus said, thinking of his waiting trunk and one last person he needed to see before he could be rid of this place.

"I know you're eager to go out into the world, my boy, but...you're by far the greatest Potions master Hogwarts has ever had. I don't suppose I could convince you to stay, at least a few more years?"

Slowly, Severus looked up, not sure whether it would be appropriate to laugh or shout. The idea of spending even one more night in this dreadful place filled him with disgust and horror so that he thought he might vomit on the rug. Albus knew better than anyone just how badly Severus needed to leave, needed to start his life—at the age of thirty-eight, no less. To put his life on hold, again, when there was no need...it was unspeakable.

"I thought not," Albus said sadly. "I would never ask, Severus, but...there have been whispers in the halls of the Ministry, whispers that have reached my ear." His face went from forlorn to calculating and Severus forced the resentment he'd felt a moment ago away, realizing he was about to be told something of importance.

"Lucius Malfoy might again escape a sentence in Azkaban," he said plainly, as though he weren't telling horrible news.

Putting down his drink, a feeling of dread washed over Severus. "How is that possible? Half the Aurors were present at the Final Battle; they all saw him cut down Dawlish and a half-dozen others. How could he possibly..." he cut himself off, lowering his eyes as he thought of the ramifications of Lucius out amongst the public again, and waited for Albus to speak.

"The Ministry has been wary of Slytherin House since Tom Riddle began recruiting when you were a student. The murmuring has never completely gone away; all it needed was for someone to stir it up again."

Scoffing, Severus said, "So Lucius is advocating...what exactly? That he was led astray by the evils of Slytherin?"

"Exactly that," Albus said with a sigh. "If it had not been for Slytherin, he might have been a different wizard, not so ambitious and mad for power..." He waved a hand through the air as though the argument could be made for itself.

For Severus, it could. Only Lucius would use such an incredible excuse and only the idiots of the Wizengamot would believe him.

"I can't stay, Albus," Severus said, not an ounce of regret in his tone. "This place..."

"I know, Severus. I know. It was wishful thinking on my part. And don't spare a thought for Lucius Malfoy. I've held the Ministry at bay before. I can do it again." He stood slowly and suddenly looked his age, Severus almost reaching out to help him. "You will owl? Let me know of all your success?"

Smirking, Severus nodded, then asked, "Will you be coming down?"

Albus shook his head and started to walk Severus to the door. "Perhaps later. I think I'll rest for a while." He opened the door and then turned to Severus, a bright smile on his face, and extended his hand. "Good luck, Severus. I hope you find what you've been looking for."

Grasping his hand tightly, Severus nodded and said genuinely, "Thank you, Albus," hardly able to speak the words, they were so heavy in his throat.

Another nod and then Albus was ushering him out the door with a wave. The spiral staircase led him downstairs and Severus turned back just in time to see the door to the office close.

* * *

Severus walked into the Great Hall with a sneer, scowling at the gaudy floating lights and too-loud music playing from a dais where the High Table should have been. He'd find Potter and get out of here as quickly as he could, staying at Spinner's End until he finalized his travel plans, but at least he'd be out of this place.

A glowing light floated around his head and he swatted at it until it went away.

"Having a good time, Professor?" said a laughing voice nearby.

He looked up, and brushed another light off once more before turning. "Draco," he acknowledged. "I'm somewhat surprised to find you here."

Shrugging, Draco took a sip of his drink, then said, "It's a victory ball and I'm supposedly part of the victory." His face lost its impetuous smile and for a moment he looked diminished, as though something had been taken from him just for having stepped through the door. "It's a bit bittersweet, I suppose."

Severus nodded, but said nothing. There really was nothing to say, no comfort to give. What did you say to a young man whose father had tried to murder him?

"Will you be glad to finally be rid of this place?" Draco asked a moment later when the silence had grown too thick.

Nodding, Severus picked up a glass from a passing tray and began to look around the room for the one person he needed to see before he could leave. In a crowd of older students, Aurors and members of the Order, Severus couldn't find Potter and he began to contemplate a point-me spell.

"And you? When do you depart for university?" he asked Draco, his eyes still scanning the crowd.

"August," Draco said plainly, then, "He's by the dais, being harassed by some Ministry flunky."

"Who?" Severus asked even as he turned his head in the direction Draco had mentioned.

"Potter," he said, and Severus didn't have to look at him to hear his smirk. He was just about to offer a scathing reply when suddenly the crowd seemed to part and Severus' eyes were assaulted by a man in elegant blue dress robes, his hair far less messy than it had been even weeks before, his shoulders thrown back in confidence, any last traces of boyhood cast away.

It was as though a candle had been lit in the room, and yet all the air seemed to have gone out of it. Severus stood in the middle of the Great Hall, his body stiff, his face revealing every ounce of his surprise, his mouth slightly open.

Draco closed it for him, but that did nothing to remove him from his stupor, to somehow remember the boy in the man he was seeing.

Harry seemed bored and a bit annoyed, looking at his drink for a moment before his eyes began to search for someone in the crowd. Severus wanted to look away, didn't want to be caught staring, but after a moment Harry's eyes met his and the light in room became blinding.

As if every person between them had disappeared, Harry's eyes lit up when they fell on Severus, and the smile that accompanied it a second later was equally blinding. Forgotten was the Ministry flunky, still speaking to Harry, not realizing whatever he was saying was falling on deaf ears.

Never before had anyone ever looked at Severus the way Harry was looking at him now. Not only as though he was glad to see him, but like he was happy just looking at him, like the boredom of the Ball—of life—became more bearable by Severus having been there.

And though Severus had never noticed it before, something tickled at the back of his mind and told him that this wasn't the first time Harry had looked at him in this way. And suddenly the last year began to make sense as snippets of a hundred conversations began to replay in his mind. How in Merlin's name had he missed _this_?

Suddenly, he was being nudged from behind and he broke eye contact, seeing but no longer actually seeing Harry, yet his heart was still beating a hundred miles an hour. He didn't have the presence of mind to ask, but he glared at Draco, as if to ask 'what?'

"I think Potter might need rescuing, Professor."

"Nonsense," Severus said, even as he turned to look at Harry again. He'd turned back to the flunky, but he occasionally glanced Severus' way, as though he was trying not to be caught watching him, even as Severus was openly staring.

Severus was nudged again and this time his legs responded, walking through the crowd—through people—in a straight line that led directly to Harry. Again, Harry paid no mind to the idiot speaking next to him. Once Severus began to move, Harry turned all attention to him, his smile growing impossibly larger.

"—in addition to this, the Auror program has in its possession some of the very best defensive texts in history," the idiot said, though it was only Severus' habits from years of spying that allowed him to filter the conversation.

His steps slowing and becoming shorter, Severus looked down slightly to meet Harry's eyes—when had he grown so much?—and felt all his powers of speech leave him.

"Potter," he greeted for want of anything else.

"Hello, Professor," Harry said, as he seemed to be nearly panting in excitement. "I'm glad to see you. I wanted to...to thank you for coming by the infirmary, giving me those potions."

Having done nothing above the call of duty, but not trusting his voice to speak—and really this was becoming ridiculous—Severus nodded and said nothing.

"Right," the flunky said, turning back to Harry. "Now, about your second year in Auror training—"

"Would you like to get a drink?" Severus asked, surprising himself and wishing he could take back the words—they both had a drink in hand—stopping them as they floated in the air before he could be made a fool of.

"Yeah...I'd love to," Harry said, his eyes sparkling and Severus hardly cared what they looked like, walking so close to each other, there could be no denying what either of them was feeling.

"Now wait just a moment!" the flunky called after them. "I was speaking to Mr. Potter—" He was silenced before another word could come out of his mouth, and Severus looked towards Draco, a dark grin on his face as he nodded for Severus to get on with it.

They reached a table where they were both served a new drink—Severus vanishing his old one, hoping Harry wouldn't notice—and again his attention was drawn towards bright green eyes that made it difficult to breathe, let alone speak.

"I was hoping I'd see you tonight," Harry said, taking a sip, trying and failing to sound nonchalant. "I know you said you'd be leaving soon and I—I wanted a chance to say goodbye properly."

Licking his lips involuntarily, Severus pulled himself together and said, "I'm leaving tonight. Now actually. There were only a few loose ends to tie up and they're...tied now." He watched as the light slowly began to fade from Harry's eyes, and Severus both lamented and rejoiced that he had been the one to do that.

"Oh," Harry said, obviously disappointed. "I don't suppose—" But he cut himself off before he could say anything else, shaking his head and looking as though he'd lost something. "Thank you again, Professor...for everything."

Severus' words became caught in his throat, as he watched Harry turn away from him. He wanted to say something, anything to make him stay, but to what end? He was leaving here, leaving Scotland for England and then even farther still. Why would he ask Harry to stay when he himself was leaving?

The air had once again been sucked from the room when Harry had turned away, the light that had shone so brightly for just a moment leaving with him, and Severus felt his throat clench.

"You idiot!" Draco said from behind him. "What are you doing?"

Severus said nothing, but thought he was doing the only thing he could do. He was letting Harry leave.

Suddenly, he heard a sigh and then a spell was muttered before four fairies were conjured and began to fly in circles around his and Harry's heads.

"What the hell?" Harry said, turning back to Severus and swatting at the damned things that were flying much too close for comfort. "What kind of joke is—whoa!" Harry said as he faltered, a dizzy spell causing his legs to fail so Severus had to catch him before he fell to the floor.

Wrapping his arms around him, Severus was once again surprised at what he found. A firm, heavy body which he could have sworn only yesterday was no more than five and a half feet tall, weighing no more than one hundred and twenty pounds. His hands gripped Harry's sides and his arms wrapped around his stomach, his nose coming to rest in Harry's hair so that he was forced to inhale, to take in everything he could.

He held him for just a moment longer than necessary, then pulled him up to stand on two feet, mourning the loss of that hard body against his.

"You idiot," he said and even _he_ could hear the affection in his tone. "Just out of the infirmary and already attending a Ball. Merlin knows how much energy you put into taming that mop of yours. You should be resting, not strutting about the Great Hall, allowing every Ministry official with an agenda to accost you."

Harry blinked in confusion for a moment, the fairies still flying around their heads, before he smiled.

"Like my hair, huh?"

Severus let him fall to the floor with an 'oof.' The fairies scowled at him and pulled at his robes until he helped Harry up.

"Severus, what—Potter!" Minerva cried, once she spotted Harry on the floor. "Goodness, boy, are you all right?"

Picking him up by his shoulders, Severus set Harry on his feet, only to find him swaying slightly in the next moment.

"I'm fine," he said, irritated, even as he tried to wriggle from Severus' grasp. "Just a dizzy spell, that's all."

"'That's all,' he says," Minerva muttered, then turned her gaze to Severus. "The boy's still recovering. You'll help him up to the dormitory?"

"'The boy,'" Harry spit out, "is just fine and has a flat in Hogsmeade." Severus watched as Minerva raised an eyebrow towards Potter, then recalled his own youth, when that eyebrow still had power over him.

He smirked.

With a sigh, Harry said, "Really...I'm okay. Maybe I just need to sit down for a little while."

"Good idea," she said, then looked to Severus again. "You wouldn't mind escorting Potter home, would you, Severus?"

At her request, his fingers dug into Harry's shoulders of their own volition, the thought of spending a few more moments with Harry filling him with anticipation and the worst kind of agony, all at the same time. The way Harry was looking at Severus and the desire that was growing within him would serve no purpose. He was leaving, as soon as he'd said goodbye to Harry, which he'd already done. Anything more would only be prolonging the inevitable and this need, this _want_...

"Of course," he found himself saying, even as Harry whimpered when his nails began to press into his flesh. "Merlin knows how many adventures he'd get himself into on his own."

Minerva smiled and said good night to the both of them, then left them alone. As he turned to leave the Great Hall, he saw Draco lift a glass to salute him in a corner and he glared in return. What had he gotten himself into?

* * *

"Nice night," Harry said, once again trying and failing to sound aloof.

"Mmm," Severus replied, though he thought that had been an understatement. It appeared that even the weather was out to get him tonight. The sky was clear and the moon just shy of being full, casting an ethereal glow over the road to Hogsmeade, making the occasional glances Harry threw his way breathtaking.

Lily's eyes had never been so beautiful.

"So...you're leaving, then?" he asked Severus, his tone hesitant and his eyes on his road.

"Yes."

Harry nodded, then asked, "Where will you go?"

"To my home, first," Severus answered, "after that I'm not sure. Japan, most likely."

"Japan!" Harry exclaimed, though Severus had no clue why the idea upset him so much. "What's in Japan?"

Scoffing, he said, "Many things. The potions field is at a standstill in Britain at the moment, but Japanese wizards have been making medical breakthroughs with recently discovered plant life for the past few years. It's my hope..." he drifted off as he questioned whether he should confess his ambitions to Harry, knowing how ridiculous they might sound. While they'd discussed his leaving Hogwarts throughout their training together, Severus had never admitted his heart's ambition. He was still for a moment, but was encouraged by Harry's curious glance, and decided to reveal all. "I believe there might be a cure for lycanthropy there, waiting to be discovered. It's a very large goal, but I am hopeful."

Apparently Harry had no idea what to say to that, a silly grin on his face and an admiring look in his eyes. "That _is_ a large goal, but...you're brilliant. I'm sure you'll succeed."

Harry's encouragement threw him off balance and for a moment Severus struggled with a response. "Of course, at the moment Japan's major appeal is its distance from Hogwarts."

The delightful grin left Harry's face, and a stillness settled over them for a few moments before he asked, "Why do you want to leave here so badly? What is it about this place that you hate so much?"

"Why is it so appealing to you?" Severus spat out, not appreciating his desires being judged in such a way. "How far have you traveled to know that this is all there is?"

Harry stopped and turned to Severus, looking up at him in such a way that left Severus defenseless. The light from the moon set his eyes afire and Harry said, "It's the only home I've ever known. No matter where I go...I have a feeling it'll always be home."

He was silent for a moment, his eyes scanning Severus' face before he continued, "So many things happened here... I found my place here, my destiny. This place is a part of me." He looked Severus dead in the eye and said, "It's a part of you, too."

"A part I'm more than glad to leave behind," Severus replied with a sneer and began walking again. "You say you found your destiny here?"

"Yes," Harry offered softly.

"Then consider this," Severus said, stopping again. "The only reason I returned to this place was to find my redemption. I _killed_ your mother, Potter. It might as well have been my wand that cast the spell. This place was my way to atonement, my way to redemption, and now that I have it I'm finally free to leave."

The air between them was thick as Severus let loose the words. He'd never confessed his sins aloud to another soul, not even Albus, who had known what had happened and had never needed to hear it. And though Harry had known the truth for over a year, through all their training together, they'd never spoken of it until this moment.

Severus wasn't sure what reaction he expected from Harry, but the soft, gentle look he was giving him certainly wasn't it. Licking his lips, Harry leaned closer to him, close enough for Severus to smell the Hogwarts-issued shampoo and aftershave that clung to him, and then the scent of a young man. The flora conspired against him as well, so his senses were assaulted as Harry looked up at him with eyes that were far too beautiful for any person to possess as he asked, "Isn't there anything you'd miss?"

"This place?" Severus asked, his voice betraying him as his words came out in an impassioned groan. "Not this place. A few people...perhaps..." he trailed off as Harry began to lean upwards, making up for the little difference between their heights.

Severus' eyes were drawn to Harry's lips as he licked them again, his cock stirring within his trousers before his reason returned to him. What was he doing? He was leaving here tonight, as soon as he made sure Harry hadn't killed himself in an accident-prone attempt at walking home. This wasn't a time to be beginning anything, it was a time for saying goodbye.

"I'm leaving here," he said, his voice hoarse. "I'm leaving now, tonight."

Harry nodded, but didn't move away. "I know. I hope you're happy...wherever you end up. I—" he cut off as his voice broke, his eyes shining. "I really do hope you find what you're looking for."

This wasn't fair, Severus inwardly screamed. He'd never had anyone look at him this way before, and never had he ever wanted someone so badly.

If Severus wanted, he and Harry could have sex tonight. His cock pulsed at the thought of it, as his eyes closed, and his nose picked up Harry's scent once again. They could be having sex inside of ten minutes...but to what end? Whatever Harry wanted, it was clear a one-night stand wasn't it.

Opening his eyes again, Severus grew angry. Angry at Harry, angry at himself for agreeing to help him home when he should have closed the door on even the possibility...

"Why are you doing this?" he hissed in a whisper. "What could you possibly want that I could give you now? What, Harry?"

Harry's mouth turned up in a half-smile and he let out a small gasp. "What do I want? The impossible, I guess. But I'll settle for this."

And then Harry was closing the final distance between them, his fuller, moist lips connecting with Severus' thin, dry ones in a bittersweet kiss that was a greeting and farewell, all in one. Severus' heart began to pound as Harry kissed him sweetly, then his cock throbbed as he felt a swipe of tongue against his mouth. The kiss deepened and Severus both hated and loved Harry in that moment. Hated him for doing this to him now when he was leaving, and loving him because...

Suddenly a bright light distracted him and he cut off the kiss to open his eyes. A bright, silvery cat Patronus was running towards them, and he felt his heart sink in his chest.

"_Albus has had a stroke. Come quickly,_" Minerva's voice said, and Severus couldn't move for the terror that was flowing through him. He watched powerlessly as Minerva's Patronus faded away, then turned his eyes to Harry.

"I'm—" But he didn't know what to say. All he could think of now was his oldest friend dying, and that he wasn't there. "How far is your flat?"

"It's just up the road, but—"

"No," Severus interrupted. "Please, Harry, go home. I'll send for you later." He was already turning, readying himself to run. "Please..."

Harry nodded and began to walk in the opposite direction, and Severus watched just long enough to make sure he wouldn't do something foolish.

And then he ran.


	2. Chapter 2

"That was the day you died?" Cedric asked, the scene fading away as Professor Snape ran towards Hogwarts.

"It was my time," Dumbledore replied, a wistful smile gracing his features. "I had done everything that I needed to do. The war was over, I'd said goodbye to my dearest friends and left the castle with a formidable headmistress." He thought back on his finals days for a few moments before saying, "It was a good end."

Sirius looked between the two of them, flummoxed. He couldn't believe what he was hearing! "Was anyone else paying attention to that conversation? He admitted it!"

Cedric and Dumbledore both frowned at him, but he wouldn't give up. "He _admitted_ he killed Lily! And what about James? He didn't even mention him, no! No, all he cares about is poor Lily—"

"Although I thought at the time," Dumbledore started again, interrupting him, "that fortune had smiled on me by taking me at just the right moment, I discovered later that I couldn't have been more wrong."

"Why?" Cedric asked, confused. The war had been won; Professor Snape was off to pursue his dreams. Everything had seemed to be in order, he thought. "What happened that made you change your mind?"

"Well," Dumbledore said, ignoring Sirius, who was working himself into a state, "now we get to the crux of the matter."

Now that he was blissfully free of an arch nemesis, Severus wondered whether he should allow the bastard bureaucrats from the Board of Governors to assume that roll.

Minerva had pleaded with him to remain at Hogwarts after Albus' funeral, and he had done so begrudgingly, and only out of respect for their joint mourning. The loss of Albus had hit Severus hard, far harder than he'd thought possible. Though he appreciated his work colleagues—Minerva included—Albus had been his only real friend for decades, and the thought that he would never see him again was one that twisted Severus' heart.

And although he knew the office in which he was currently sitting belonged to the sitting headmaster—or headmistress in this instance—it saddened him to see Minerva behind the desk Albus had used since Severus had known him. It was even worse seeing his picture on the wall, silently sleeping when he wasn't waving cheerfully.

Sometimes he hated magic.

What had made matters worse—and somehow better at the same time— was seeing Harry leave for his studies. Severus had regained the use of his mental faculties after that night in Hogsmeade, and had successfully avoided Harry during Albus' funeral. He'd congratulated himself at the time, but now... It was odd to miss something that he had never truly had as much as he missed Harry. If he allowed his thoughts the freedom to go where they would, he knew that Harry would be the only thing on his mind.

But Severus was no fool. He buried the memory of that bright smile and tender gaze in the back of his memories and left it there.

It was the only thing to do, he reasoned. Especially now.

Suddenly Minerva cleared her throat, and Severus was brought out of his dark inner musing. The door to the office opened and the last of the Board of Governors filed into the room. He sat up straighter as he recognized some of the bastards Albus had rowed with over the years, but it was only his years of relying on the ability to keep a straight face that kept him from growling as Lucius Malfoy entered the room.

Albus had told him that Lucius might escape Azkaban yet again, and, remembering Lucius, Severus had thought it likely at the time. But it was far different seeing him in the flesh, observing the gall with which he sauntered into Hogwarts, like he was any regular law-abiding citizen.

Suddenly cold, gray eyes looked to him and Lucius smiled; Severus couldn't keep the scowl from his face.

"Right," one of the men—Stevenson, Severus recalled—said, calling the meeting to order as they all took their seats. "Let's try to get this over with quickly. The first item on the agenda..."

After that, Severus was treated to the most mind-numbing tedium he'd been forced to sit through since his History of Magic lessons. Ignoring Lucius, Severus tried his hardest to pay attention to matters he couldn't care less about. With the war having just ended and Hogwarts' long-time headmaster dead, the Board had taken it upon themselves to review some of the older rules and curricula during the changing of the guard.

The most important of them—which was to say Severus still barely gave a damn—was the idea to extend students' Defense lessons through their seventh year, regardless of their OWL grade. Severus thought that might be a good idea, and, since it didn't affect him in the least, raised no objection when it was ratified.

All the arguments and discussions had taken hours before Stevenson finally asked if there was anything else.

Hardly able to help himself, Severus turned his eyes to Lucius, and he held his breath. He watched as Lucius smirked and then lifted a hand.

_Here it comes..._

"If I may have the floor..."

Amused at seeing Minerva and half of the other members scowl, Severus turned his full attention to Lucius, ready to pick up on whatever hints he'd make as to his real agenda.

"While the changes we've implemented today are admirable, and will no doubt contribute to our goal to maintain Hogwarts' excellence, I believe that perhaps...larger changes are in order."

The members of the Board shifted in their chairs silently and Minerva's eyelids became slits. Severus observed Lucius, the way he enjoyed the room's full attention and how every Board member seemed to hold him in just barely concealed disgust, and remained silent.

"We have, gentlemen, a unique opportunity in front of us. Never before in Hogwarts' history has there been a time when such great change was possible. Here we sit, a new headmistress," he gave a slight bow of his head to Minerva, who twisted her lips in return, "the term beginning in less than a month, and, most importantly, a great war just behind us.

"Gentlemen," Lucius said, leaning forward, a glint in his eyes that Severus recognized with a shiver, "the time to implement change is _now_."

"What exactly are you suggesting, Mr. Malfoy?" Stevenson asked, even as the other Board members looked down at their papers.

"I suggest we take a stand on the future of the Wizarding world, on our children's future, and take great steps to eliminate the potential for the cultivation of lawlessness, rebellion, and—most especially—dark magic."

Severus' hands gripped the arms of his chair even as his breath stilled, as he realized what Lucius meant to do. Suddenly their eyes met, and Severus knew that, in his shock, his face was revealing his every emotion, but hardly cared. Lucius gave a subtle smirk, something that only another person who'd made a living out of controlling his facial features could detect, and Severus' heart sank.

"I move for the immediate dissolution of Slytherin House."

Two of the Board members—one of whom had only been a year ahead of Severus—began shouting, nearly at the top of their lungs, while two others tried to calm them, glaring at Lucius from the corners of their eyes. Severus watched as Lucius tried to restrain the smirk from overtaking his face, even as several of the Board members called for his immediate removal.

"Order!" cried Stevenson, and the men eventually sat down. "The Board will hear what Mr. Malfoy has to say."

"My argument is simply this: by admission, Slytherin seeks to cultivate only the most ambitious, only the most cunning students." He looked around the room for effect, and Severus watched as several of the Board members who had previously been enraged seemed to calm and listen. "It's no coincidence that...Voldemort—" he paused for only half of a second, but Severus caught the slip—"and _nearly all_ his followers came from Slytherin House, myself included. It is a house that takes students already on the cusp of darkness and nurtures them."

"Are you suggesting," one of the members asked, and Severus couldn't help notice the green piping on his tie, "that all members of Slytherin House are somehow _depraved_, or at risk of becoming a danger to society?"

The rest of the room turned all eyes on Lucius, save Severus. He was too busy watching the room's reaction to Lucius' speech.

"Not at all," Lucius said, and Severus could almost hear him relax into his chair as he hit his stride. "However, I believe it's safe to say it is a breeding ground for _potential_ dark arts practitioners, and therefore should be eliminated." With a wave of his hand, he said, "Let the students be resorted, let them cast off the association of dark wizards before it becomes too late for them."

Severus met Minerva's eyes for just an instant, and he realized that she too had seen the climate of the room change dramatically. Where at the beginning of his argument nearly every man sitting in the room had had their nose upturned towards Lucius, nearly all of them were looking on him keenly now. And where most of them had taken objection—some more strongly than others—the majority of them seemed to be taking his motion seriously.

"Mr. Malfoy," Minerva said, her tone cold, eyes revealing a barely-contained rage, "what would you suggest we do with students already sorted into Slytherin House? Throw them out the door?"

"I'm sure it would be no great chore to see them resorted at the beginning of the year."

"And how would we do that, Mr. Malfoy?" asked one of the other members—Miller, Severus thought, a family who'd been in Gryffindor for generations. "The Sorting Hat is a magical object that was charmed by the founders themselves. We can't simply ask it to eliminate one of our houses. Nor should we!"

"If the hat refuses to assign a different house, we could simply ask the students if they have a specific choice. Or," he said, his words coming so easily, as though this were a practiced speech, "we could take a student's records into account. If the student is zealous for knowledge, Ravenclaw. If his professors say he's dedicated to fair-play, Hufflepuff, and so forth."

Gritting his teeth, Severus watched as half the men in the room seemed to think this over, while others were nodding their heads in agreement. He couldn't believe how eagerly they were accepting every word from Lucius' mouth, how even the men who had objected were now looking amongst each other.

"This is madness," Miller said. "Slytherin has been in existence for over a thousand years! We can't undo our most sacred traditions because of one madman."

"I demand the floor," said an older man Severus hadn't noticed before. As the eyes of every occupant in the room turned towards him, he sat back into his chair, looking exhausted. He began to speak, Severus thought, with great reluctance.

"I don't believe there is any harm in arranging like-minded students together. There's nothing wrong with sorting the bookish children together, or the helpful ones, or even the daring and reckless," he said, running a hand over his chin before continuing. "I was in the same year as Tom Riddle and many of his...associates. Now, no one is saying that Slytherin is the sole producer of dark wizards..." He drifted off for a moment, but not in the way Lucius had, as though he were attempting to soak up attention to make his point. To Severus it seemed as though he were truly considering Lucius' argument, and that was far worse.

"I often think of my school years...and wonder what would have happened to Lestrange and Macnair and all those who were caught up in Tom Riddle's charm if they all hadn't been placed in such close quarters." He was quiet for a moment and Severus held his breath. "I second Mr. Malfoy's motion."

As the men began to mutter to each other, Severus looked to Minerva, who gave him a subtle nod. He cleared his throat and waited as the murmuring died down. Looking Lucius in the eye, he prepared to make the argument of his life in defense of his first real home. "Slytherin," Severus began, his fingers still clutching the arms of his chair, "is an institution as old as Hogwarts itself. It isn't something—"

"My apologies," Lucius said to Stevenson, "but if I recall the Board's by-laws correctly, only _members_, and the sitting headmistress, are allowed to speak at its meetings." His face took on a look of forced innocence as he glanced back at Severus. "Or have the rules changed?"

"They haven't," Stevenson replied, "however, Professor Snape is the head of Slytherin, and since we _are_ discussing the dissolution of his house, I believe he has a right to the floor."

"Really, I must object—"

"I won't have a war hero silenced," Stevenson said firmly. "Not while I am in charge here. Please, Professor Snape, continue."

Severus acknowledged him with a bow of his head, and, with great control, managed to stand up to address the Board with dignity.

"You speak of cunning and ambition as though they were a shame to be hidden, when the Wizarding world has reaped the benefits of Slytherin for a millennium. Six of the last ten Ministers of Magic have belonged to Slytherin House, and yet society has not fallen into disrepair. There are no shackles attached to any of our feet."

"I believe you misunderstand my concern—" Lucius began to say, but Severus wasn't going to allow him to speak now.

"No, Mr. Malfoy, I believe everyone here understands your true concern." Lucius did nothing but lean back in his chair at his insinuation, but Severus knew the rest of the Board had understood. "Slytherin House has produced countless wizards and witches who have left Hogwarts to become valuable assets to the Wizarding world. Damocles was a Slytherin, as are an unusually high number of potions masters and healers. As Head of House, I've nurtured many students, clever witches and wizards who will take nothing less than total success in their field of choice, students who have gone on to contribute great things to the world...and you would destroy the institution which facilitates them."

"Whatever they could accomplish in Slytherin can easily be accomplished in another house—"

"You yourself should know, _Mr. Malfoy_, the encouragement, the competition that can be found in Slytherin House. What would you have the Board tell them? That their drive to succeed is somehow nefarious? That the cleverness with which they address their studies, their relationships, every aspect of their education is somehow repugnant to the Board of Governors?"

"No," Lucius said, his hand holding on to the head of his cane, "but I would tell them that they could _encourage_ each other in a different house, for the greater good of the Wizarding world."

"I see," Severus said with a sneer. "And when they grow older and begin to understand what happened here, what will you tell them then? When they become angry, when they grow disenfranchised, and begin to feel cast out, unwanted, what will happen then?" He paused, allowing his words the weight they required before he said, "It is then, after you've destroyed a generation of children, that you should begin to fear the next dark lord."

Not allowing even a moment's pause, Lucius said in a hiss, "I fear the next Dark Lord now, Professor. School will be back in session in under a month, and we'll have children who belonged to dark families—families who still swear allegiance to Voldemort—together, under one roof. I think you forget it was primarily the students with families in other houses who did most of the work during the war, suffered the most because of the war."

"And I'll remind you," Severus sneered, his anger just barely under control, "that though it was a Gryffindor who cast the killing blow, it was a Slytherin who kept him alive long enough to cast it." Some of the members, who no doubt knew the story of Draco aiding Harry, lowered their heads at the insult. Lucius dropped all pretense and sneered. "And while members of every house did their part in the war, Slytherin more than contributed to the working and praying and living and dying. And now in return you'd throw them to the wolves, all in aid of furthering your return to respectable society—"

Lucius stood to his feet, cane in hand, before he regained control of himself, and Stevenson put up his hands.

"I'll have no dueling in this room!" Minerva shouted, standing to her feet as well.

"He'll not lift a finger," Severus said, looking Lucius in the eye, "not if he wants to regain his name so badly."

"Professor Snape, that's enough," Stevenson said, though Severus noticed how he looked at Lucius as he spoke. "I believe the Board has heard enough from both parties to make a decision. Headmistress, Professor, if you'll leave the room. But before you go," he said as he put a hand on Severus' arm, "the Board _does_ acknowledge all that Slytherin has done in this most recent war, most particularly from its Head of House." He nodded to Severus, who hardly cared what the man thought, before glancing around the room. Every eye was turned to him, and unlike similar instances, all eyes—save Lucius'—acknowledged Stevenson's words.

It could hardly count as a victory. Not when these men were seriously considering destroying what had formed Severus. He paused for a moment, then nodded in acknowledgment before leaving the room.

As soon as the door closed, Severus let out a string of obscenities, then roared, "I can't even begin to— A thousand years of tradition undone simply because Lucius Malfoy managed to escape a sentence in Azkaban!"

"They wouldn't dare," Minerva said, even as she began pacing along with Severus. "They're reasonable men, Severus. Reasonable men don't just fold like a deck of cards every time there's a new threat..." she trailed off, then looked Severus in the eye, afraid. Severus looked to the door, then back at Minerva, and knew they were thinking the same thing.

A man could be reasonable, but men in a room together, with fear stirred up and flowing between them, were dangerous. His shoulders slumped and he leaned against the wall as shouts were heard from inside the office.

They waited for half an hour, not a word spoken between them. Severus thought of Albus, of how this wouldn't have happened if he'd been here. Lucius Malfoy probably wouldn't have been able to enter the building, and the defense of Slytherin would've meant far more coming from him than from Severus.

Suddenly the door swung open with a bang, and Severus exhaled a sigh of relief as he saw the smile on Stevenson's face.

"Professors, I have excellent news!"

"Oh, thank Merlin!" Minerva said with a groan. "They voted Malfoy down?"

"They did, but with one stipulation. They were very impressed with your defense, Professor Snape, and with your history in the last war..."

His words sent a prickle of suspicion down Severus' spine and he clenched his jaw, his nails digging into his palm as a warning began to sound in his mind.

"They...understand Mr. Malfoy's concerns. Many of the members find them valid and...troubling. However, they've agreed to leave Slytherin intact as long as you, Professor, remain its Head of House."

Like a punch to the gut, Severus felt all the air leave the room. He kept his mouth tightly shut, his body taut, as he heard Minerva say, "Professor Snape has resigned. He's had plans to leave the country for several months, and only stayed at my request. I can't ask him to stay any longer."

Stevenson's face fell and he looked to Severus. "Professor, the majority of the members feel that Slytherin needs a strong role model to keep it in line. That all the...ambition and cunning needs to be properly channeled from a young age."

"I—" Severus forced out before his throat closed. He shook his head, even as he wanted to rage at Stevenson, storm past him and blast Lucius to pieces. Damn Albus for dying, damn Minerva for asking him to stay when he'd needed to leave, and damn the Dark Lord for ever existing!

"Professor Snape..." Stevenson said softly. "They'll vote with Malfoy otherwise."

Minerva's eyes were closed, and Severus never hated her as much as he did in that moment. He looked towards the door, then back at Stevenson, his life's dreams once again falling to the wayside.

He had no choice. Hundreds of students' lives hung in the balance, generations of tradition waiting to be broken by a shake of his head.

Bile in his throat kept him from responding, his anger so great he was surprised the walls hadn't begun to shake. Slowly, he looked Stevenson in the eye, even as the darkness began to surround him, the shackles once again grasping at him, and nodded his head.

"Oh, Merlin," Cedric whispered, astonished. "After all that, he had to stay at Hogwarts?"

"Yes," Dumbledore said, with a shake of his head. "It was the worst kind of defeat. To have freedom, everything he wanted just in reach, only to have it snatched away at the very last moment..."

"He was guilted into it!" Cedric exclaimed. "If that bastard Malfoy had just been sentenced to Azkaban!" Cedric looked to the ground and considered his shoes, even as his heart twisted in sympathy for a good man.

Sirius, on the other hand, couldn't believe what he was hearing. He stared at the other men for a moment before jumping to his feet, "Oh, yes! It must be so terrible to be gainfully employed at one of the most prestigious wizarding schools in Europe. My heart bleeds for him!" Dumbledore and Cedric looked up at him, but he quieted them with a pump of his fist. "Do you know how many times I was employed in my life? None! Not once!" He looked at Dumbledore, then pointed a finger. "I went straight from Hogwarts, to working for _you_ in the war, without pay, then straight to Azkaban, then to my own personal prison! Where are all the tears for poor Sirius?"

Dumbledore sighed and Cedric shuffled his feet.

"And you, Cedric! Poor Snape? He's alive, isn't he? What about you? You never had a job, hell, you never left school!" He considered Cedric for a moment before his eyes went wide. "I'll bet you died a virgin!"

"Hey!" Cedric said, as he shook his head.

"Well, Snape certainly won't die a virgin. Not by a long shot! My brother told me stories that would curl your toes just thinking about it."

Stifling the urge to laugh at Sirius' antics, Dumbledore put up a hand. "Sirius—"

"He has a forked cock, you know! Like a crup's tail!"

"Sirius!" Dumbledore said, no longer willing to listen to a rant when time was of the essence. "We're all very sorry for your terrible plight. But you're in Paradise now, and I'm sure your eternal reward..." He stopped, then considered Sirius. "Actually, what was your eternal reward?"

Sirius mumbled something and put his hands in his pockets.

"What was that?"

"I said, 'they said I was lucky to be allowed in when I got here.'"

Dumbledore's eyes went wide, then met Cedric's, and he exploded into laughter.

Sirius huffed.

"Oh, no, my boy," Dumbledore said, calming himself. "Well...being allowed into Paradise is a reward in itself."

"You can borrow my broom if you'd like," Cedric said kindly, and Dumbledore smiled at the show of generosity.

"Back to the issue at hand," Dumbledore said, then waved his hand over the window. "When the members of the Order discovered what had been done to Severus, they tried to aid him in any way they could."

"So what happened?" Cedric asked.

"Nothing. There wasn't a teacher among them, let alone a Slytherin or a potions master. There was no one else...at the time." Dumbledore paused, then waved his hand, revealing Draco Malfoy approaching the gates of Hogwarts. "Hearing of his old professor's plight, Draco approached Minerva and asked to relieve Severus, once he'd finished his studies."

"Four years?" Cedric asked, shaking his head. "It's still a long time to wait. So Draco returned and Professor Snape was able to leave? And where was Harry in all this? Professor Snape obviously cared about him..."

"Harry left and studied defense privately under some of the greatest instructors in Britain." Dumbledore paused and watched Draco walk through the front gates, his mind lingering over Harry and Severus. "I can't be certain, but...I think Harry was waiting for Severus." He leaned back on the bench, and considered the window. "I had thought that with the age difference it would be the other way around..." He drifted off, then Sirius cleared his throat, bringing him back to the present.

"Well, four years after my death, Draco returned to Hogwarts to teach Potions and take over as head of Slytherin..." He waved his hand at the window. "It was a noble sacrifice."

"Sacrifice?" Cedric asked.

"Well..." Dumbledore said, not entirely sure how to explain the situation. "These things are never easy."

"I'd thought you'd be packing," Minerva said from the open door of the Potions classroom. "Or have you packed already?"

Severus sighed and continued stirring. "I haven't. I packed the last time and look where it got me," Severus said with a sneer, his tone full of disdain. Of course he believed Draco would come as he'd said he would, but Severus just couldn't allowed himself to hope. Not after last time, not after the last four miserable years.

"Draco owled four days ago to confirm he'd be arriving today." Minerva approached him and put a hand on his arm mid-stir. "Your sentence is up, Severus. I think it's safe to begin thinking of tomorrow again."

With a scoff, Severus ceased his stirring, then took the cauldron off the flames. "I won't believe I'm to be rid of this place until there's at least one ocean between us."

He turned away from Minerva and took in the Potions classroom, trying his best to hold back a torrent of obscenities about where life had taken him.

The last four years had been the hardest of his life. Without a cause to fight for, without a valid reason for staying in this god-forsaken place, the days had seemed to drag on for eternity, and yet four years had flown by with him barely noticing.

Without a goal, with all his debts paid and with nothing real left to fight for, Severus' lack of purpose had been driving him insane. He had rarely left the castle—escaping his prison only to return later felt even worse than not leaving at all—and he hardly saw anyone besides his Hogwarts colleagues. It had only been at Draco's insistence that he'd met him for a drink in Hogsmeade several months ago. And when Draco had told Severus of his plans to rescue him from his hell, he hadn't dared to believe it.

It wasn't that Severus didn't trust him. If Draco said he was going to do something, Severus had no doubt that he would do it. But he couldn't allow his hopes for the future to be raised again; there was too much at stake. So when Minerva had offered the Board of Governors an alternate Slytherin-hero-Potions master, Severus had felt as though he'd taken a breath after four years of having his head held under water.

But he'd stopped himself. Hope was a dangerous thing, after all. And Draco hadn't returned yet.

"Next year will be interesting, to say the least," Minerva said from behind him. "No doubt there will fewer sobbing first years to attend to in your absence."

Severus smirked despite himself, opened his mouth to form the proper retort, but a voice from the doorway spoke before he could.

"I suppose that's my job now, but I hardly think I'm qualified," Draco said, leaning against the door, arms crossed over his chest and a smirk on his face. "Never could get that stalk of yours down, Professor."

Severus stood still at the sight of Draco standing in the door, while Minerva went to greet him. While he'd taken Draco at his word, seeing him at Hogwarts, trunk floating behind him, was enough to let that awful hope begin to creep inside him again.

"It's not too late to turn and run," he said, even as Draco turned from Minerva to flash him a smile.

"No, I'm far too brave to run. Haven't you heard? I'm a hero, and apparently only one of two people who are morally qualified to keep a hundred young minds from turning into complete psychopaths."

Leaving his bench, Severus slowly approached Draco, his heart feeling lighter with every step he took. Reaching out, he took Draco's hand in his, their eyes meeting as understanding passed between them.

"Thank you for coming, Draco," he said with absolute sincerity, as he began to feel that large weight lift from his shoulders.

The smile left Draco's face as he nodded, then released Severus' hand. No doubt sensing the silence was due to the third party, Minerva nodded and said, "Well, I'll leave you to it, then. There's still one post that needs filling before the first, and he should've sent me an answer by now."

"You found someone to take on the Defense post?" Severus asked. "Who?"

"He asked me not to reveal his interest until he's decided," Minerva said, already halfway out the door.

Severus glared, curious now despite himself. "_Who_?"

Minerva turned around with a grimace, then drew herself up to her full height. "I don't share your secrets, Severus. Why would you think I would share the secrets of others?"

When she'd gone, Draco let out a bark of laughter. "Merlin! So she's always like that, even to the professors?"

"Nothing about that woman is an act," Severus said fondly as he began to think about tomorrow and that he was not likely to see Minerva for a very long time. Shaking himself from pointless thoughts, he turned to Draco. "You've only just arrived?"

"Yeah," Draco said, walking into the classroom properly. "I'm famished. You want to get a drink in Hogsmeade?"

Not quite understanding the connection between hunger and the need for alcohol, Severus shrugged off the question, not wanting to put off what he needed to say any longer.

"It was good of you to come, Draco. I'm grateful, truly."

The sarcastic twist of a smile that normally adorned Draco's face melted away and his eyes dropped to the floor. Clearing his throat, he looked up at Severus and said, "Professor—Severus, you saved my life. My father would have killed me if it weren't for you. Coming back here...taking up the mantle for you, I think it's only fair recompense."

A twinge of guilt took root in Severus' conscience at that. He had no desire for anyone, particularly Draco, to feel as though they owed him for anything he'd done in the war.

"Draco," he started, not wanting to go any further before things were made clear, "you owe me nothing. You can't live your life striving to make up for a debt that doesn't exist. If I leave Hogwarts, I won't come back. And you cannot stay here just to—"

"I _do_ owe you. Not only did you save my life, but you wouldn't even be here if not for my father."

Severus sighed, and the twinge of guilt spread. As much as he longed to leave Hogwarts, he couldn't allow Draco to enter what equated to a life of servitude under a false pretense.

"A son shouldn't have to pay for the sins of his father."

Draco looked away for a moment, his eyes downcast, and Severus held his breath as he prepared himself to hear Draco rescind his offer, to take the out Severus was offering him and run.

Draco blinked and sighed before the twist of a smile returned, and Severus didn't know what that meant. After a moment Draco bumped him on the shoulder and said, "You realize that if I take this job, I'll basically be set for life. And as much as you might hate it, job security—especially for someone named Malfoy—is nothing to scoff at."

Severus examined his face, trying to find the lie there, not wanting to put such an enormous responsibility on someone so young for all the wrong reasons.

"So where are you going first, now that you've got the stink of this place behind you?" Draco asked, pulling Severus from his thoughts. He looked at Draco another moment before putting away his guilt. If Draco wanted to remain here, he would let him.

"I'm unsure," Severus said, breaking his stare. "I admit I haven't kept up with recent discoveries as I have in the past. It was too..."

"I know," Draco said, ushering him out of the dungeons. "I'm sure you'll be able to catch up in no time. Now about that drink..."

"So..." Severus started, looking for something to talk about as they made their way through Hogsmeade, "how are things progressing with...that girl you mentioned?"

Draco cast a sideways smile at him and asked, "Which one?"

Severus rolled his eyes, but responded, "Astrid or Angora or something like that."

The smile fell from his face a bit as Draco turned his eyes back to the busy street. "Astoria," he said shortly and put his hands in his pockets.

"Things didn't work out after all? You seemed confident when you mentioned it."

"Yes, well..." Draco said, seeming to trip over his words, causing Severus to take special notice where before he'd been making polite conversation.

"Yes?" he asked, curious now at what could have happened with this girl in the few months since they'd spoken.

"She's living in London, and I'll be here, so..."

Ah, thought Severus, and the twinge of guilt he'd hidden away came roaring back to him. He hadn't considered Draco's age and desires when he'd accepted his offer to take the Potions position. When Severus had come to Hogwarts, he'd done so with full knowledge that his plans for redemption meant he'd be alone. And as much as it pained him, he'd accepted it at a very young age—Draco's age—and had known it was part of his punishment, part of his atonement for Lily.

Draco had no such burden. At twenty-two years old, he was entering a school full of children, with colleagues more than twice his age. And while Hogsmeade was close by, the town was small and catered mostly to Hogwarts staff and students. It was doubtful Draco would find the girl he was looking for among the shopkeepers and school teachers.

Severus sighed and ran a hand over his face. Another friendly bump on his shoulder pulled him from his thoughts.

"Well, there're always holidays. And what other profession gives you two months off for the summer?" Draco said, his smile—which now seemed much too brave for Severus' liking—returning in full force. "Right," he said, stopping in front of the Three Broomsticks, "one drink, maybe two, and then you can start moving all the dead things out of _my_ rooms."

Laughing at his own joke, Draco pulled open the door, Severus in silent contemplation behind him, feeling less certain about his decision by the minute. He was thinking the entire situation through again, trying to convince himself that Draco was free to make his own decisions, when suddenly he bumped into the man in question.

"Oh, shit," Draco muttered, causing Severus to look up cautiously. His body tensing, he looked around the pub, searching for any perceived threat.

"Draco! And...my God, Severus!" a voice boomed from the back of the room, and Severus turned to see a smiling Kingsley Shacklebot approaching them. "Severus!" he exclaimed again, coming over and grasping Severus by the shoulder in a firm grip. "It's so good to see you. It's been far too long. I think I've actually missed that dark humor of yours," Kingsley said, clearly misinterpreting Severus' scowl as some sort of friendly greeting.

Not wanting to remain misunderstood, Severus carefully extracted his shoulder from Kingsley's vice-like grip and said, "Not nearly long enough. One does like to avoid being manhandled when at all possible."

Kingsley laughed a deep, jovial chuckle that nearly distracted Severus from watching Draco slink to the other side of the room. Before he could go too far, Kingsley landed his hands on both their shoulders and began walking them towards the opposite side of the pub.

"Come sit down with us," he said as Severus' shoulder twitched in pain. "It's been so long since we've seen you, Severus, it'll be an enjoyable reunion."

"Us?" Severus asked as they walked up to a table in the corner of the room and Kingsley's dining companion came into view.

Even Kingsley wasn't able to push Severus forward as his feet fastened to the spot, his knees buckling as Harry Potter's eyes met his.

It was exactly like the first time—which really hadn't been the first time—he'd seen him, bored out of his mind, across a crowded room full of people. The silence between the four men became heavy, but Severus hardly noticed. The only thing he could focus on was how fast his heart began to beat, how alive he felt, at seeing Harry again.

And as painful as it was to admit, four years was a very long time to feel so lifeless. Looking at Harry now, something long dead suddenly burst into being, though every instinct of self-preservation cried at him to bury it back down.

He hadn't thought of Harry since the last time he saw him. In fact, Severus could say with absolute certainty that he'd steadfastly _not_ thought about Harry every miserable day he'd spent in that pit of a castle. He'd forced himself not to think of Harry when he woke up in the mornings, when he'd tediously taught idiot students day in and day out. He hadn't thought of Harry every minute of every gut-wrenching day for the last four years.

Harry was something he shielded himself against, a momentarily lapse of stupidity on his part that threatened to overtake him at the worst of times. He knew if he wasn't careful he could drown in the pain of missing Harry, in what could have been, if not for the war and Albus and the damned Board of Governors. Just the idea of him, the memory of a hundred conversations he'd barely paid attention to at the time, the ghost of that one ill-fated kiss, would have been enough to tear the last shreds of his sanity from him.

And he was looking at Severus in exactly the same way now. With two men and a thousand unspoken words between them, the silence continued, neither of them knowing what to say.

"Well, at least this won't be awkward," Draco said, breaking the silence. "That would've been uncomfortable, but this... This is much better."

Harry blinked and turned to Draco, motioning him to take a seat. "Malfoy," he greeted shortly, then turned to Severus. "Professor," he said, the word steeped with affection that no doubt everyone heard.

"Yes," Kingsley said hesitantly, his eyes darting between the two of them as everyone took their seats. "Well, Harry and I were just discussing—"

"What brings the two of you to Hogsmeade?" Harry said, interrupting Kingsley and sending a quick look his way. Severus' instinct demanded he ask what that had all been about, but he doubted his ability to form the question without making a fool of himself.

"Just taking the professor out for a drink," Draco said, motioning to the bartender to bring everyone another of whatever Kingsley and Harry were having. "A quick one. The dungeons start to fall apart slowly when he's not around."

Kingsley laughed, but Harry was steadfastly staring at his drink, ignoring Severus and everyone else at the table. As much as Severus hated drawing attention to himself, he allowed himself to take a good look at Harry while he was distracted.

He'd filled out since Severus had last seen him. The shoulders that had only begun to broaden looked more set now, a faint afternoon stubble crossing his cheek, his posture straighter. Severus recalled thinking that Harry had left boyhood behind that ill-fated night when Albus had died, and he had. But while he'd shed childhood then, it seemed he'd fully embraced adulthood now. It was difficult to tear his eyes away from Harry, even when he quickly looked up from his drink to chance a glance at Severus.

He meant to look away, but found he couldn't as Harry's eyes met his, as the tension between them grew before Harry looked down at his drink again.

"Anything interesting going on with you, Kingsley?" Draco asked, obviously eager to end the awkward silence.

Shaking his head, Kingsley gave a fatigued sigh and said, "It's good to be home. With the Ministry restructuring the Auror department, it's not often I get to be home more than a week at a time."

"Oh?" Severus asked, not having to feign curiosity. He hadn't lied when he'd told Draco he hadn't kept up with what was going on outside of Hogwarts. It'd seemed futile and had been painful to watch the world pass him by, but now he felt needlessly ignorant as he asked, "What exactly are they restructuring?"

"Well, they're examining the entire department, but they've only changed a few procedures so far. And they've been sending me to the strangest places to examine how other Auror programs work. In May, I was in Beijing. In June, I was in New Delhi. Far too much travel, if you ask me."

"How horrible for you," Severus muttered, hatred and envy welling up within him.

"So," Kingsley turned to Draco before taking a sip of his drink, "what brings you to Hogwarts?"

Forcing away his silent rage, Severus looked at Draco curiously before he said, "I thought you would've heard by now. Draco has agreed to take up the Potions position, as well as becoming Head of Slytherin."

Out of the corner of his eyes, Severus noticed Harry flinch and then pale, his hand gripping his glass tighter.

Kingsley just stared at Draco in confusion. "You've turned down Pearson Pharmaceuticals? Why?"

Severus turned to look at him mid-drink, an awful feeling running down his spine.

In turn, Draco sent a glare at Kingsley before motioning to the bartender for another round, though all their glasses were nearly full. He ignored Severus and finished off the rest of his drink. "Why wouldn't I jump at the chance to teach at Hogwarts? At least I won't have to work around politicians all day."

"Wait," Severus said, the guilt he'd felt earlier returning to him even as selfishness and self-preservation told him to keep his mouth shut. "What have you turned down?"

"You're familiar with the situation with the werewolves?" Kingsley asked.

Severus lifted an eyebrow. "Once a month they become hairy and bite people?"

"During the war," Kingsley said, ignoring Severus' sarcasm, "Fenrir and his _people_ made it their mission to contaminate as many wizards and witches as possible. They attacked the smallest villages, destroyed families, all in the name of furthering their cause. The Ministry simply can't keep up with making Wolfsbane for hundreds of people for seven days, the week before the full moon."

Kingsley looked at Draco, who seemed to be attempting to melt into the floor, before he said, "Draco's professor has been invited by Pearson Pharmaceuticals to create a real cure for lycanthropy, and he asked Draco to come on board with him." He leaned forward in his chair and addressed Draco. "This is the chance of a lifetime, Draco. Why in Merlin's name would you choose to go to Hogwarts when you could make a real name for yourself?"

"Shut up, Kingsley," Draco muttered, morosely looking into his new drink and ignoring Severus' glare.

Closing his eyes, Severus was forced to recognize the battle being waged within himself. On one hand, if there was truly a need for potions masters, people who knew theory and could make real strides in curing that dreadful disease, Severus was far better qualified than Draco. He could leave now, approach one of his old colleagues, and do everything he could to get a place in that laboratory. He could leave Hogwarts behind and finally begin his life anew, making a name for himself and most likely a great deal of profit, both monetary and professional.

"You're making the biggest mistake of your life, Draco," Kingsley said, clearly not understanding what was happening.

"Shut up, Shacklebolt!"

Harry remained oddly silent the entire time, Severus noticed as he opened his eyes. In fact, he seemed to be waging a war inside himself as well. His eyes were concentrating far too much on the foam in his glass, his nostrils flared, and his knuckles white.

"Severus," Draco said and Severus again turned away from Harry. "Look, it's not for me, okay? I said I'd take over for you, and I will. I won't back down."

And that was what it came down to, Severus realized. Through some miracle, Draco Malfoy had somehow grown up to be an honorable man. An honorable man who believed he owed his life to Severus and would do anything to aid him.

There was a time when that would have had Severus beside himself with glee. Now it only caused him to kick himself for what he was about to do.

Draco was prepared to sacrifice himself, his professional career, the possibility for marriage and children, and his desire to rebuild his family name, all in the name of rescuing Severus. It was too great a sacrifice, and Severus knew he couldn't allow a young man to do that for his sake.

Severus gripped his own glass firmly and finished it before he said, "Take the offer, Draco."

He heard a loud scoff before a silent pause that went on for just a moment too long. "No," Draco finally said, "I'm not going to. I've made up my mind and—"

"The Potions position is no longer available. I've decided to retain my post."

Sneering, Draco pushed himself back in his chair. "Really? Just now?"

"Yes," Severus said, reaching for Harry's untouched glass and drinking that as well. "A spur of the moment decision, but one I am free to make."

"Is there something I'm not understanding here?" Kingsley asked.

Severus cleared his throat and said, "Draco was good enough to offer to take over the Potions position at Hogwarts, allowing me the freedom to finally escape." He watched as understanding washed over Kingsley's face, then remorse. "It was kind of you to offer, Draco, but I find I no longer have the desire to leave."

"Severus, I'm sorry I brought it up—" Kingsley said before Severus interrupted him.

"Yes, I think I am as well," he muttered.

"This isn't right!" Draco hissed, angry but still not willing to make a spectacle of himself. "You saved my life, you trained Potter, you were a spy! You shouldn't have to give up your whole life—"

"And neither should you," Severus said, finishing Harry's drink. "But one of us is already in this, and there's no reason both should suffer. Go, Draco. Be well."

"I won't—"

"You will!" Severus said, pounding his fist on the table. "This conversation is over. Go find that girl, take your bloody offer and be well."

Severus thought someone who'd just dodged a particularly nasty spell should be more grateful, but he said nothing as Draco sunk into his chair, his expression despondent.

Harry, on the other hand, made a soft groan and ran a hand over his face. He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths as the other men at the table watched him, sitting like that for a few moments before opening his eyes and looking to Severus.

The look he sent him was enough to stop Severus from criticizing the arrival of even more melodrama. Their eyes met, and Harry studied him for a moment, green eyes asking a question, though Severus had no idea what it was. The air was thick around them as the moment lingered before Harry turned to his drink again, seeming to gather himself. He sat up straighter, and the indecision that had hung around him a moment ago disappeared. Slowly, with great care, he addressed Kingsley.

"I don't think I'll be taking you up on your offer," he said in a gush of breath, as though it was a relief to get the words out.

"What offer?" Draco asked, motioning to the bartender for another round as he slouched in his chair.

"The Auror training program," Kingsley said, looking at Harry, then Severus. "I offered him a top position, with generous benefits. Why would you turn it down?"

That air of indecision and uncertainty returned to Harry as he turned from Kingsley and looked at Severus. Once again Severus thought he was being examined, that Harry was weighing something important in that moment, something Severus couldn't fathom.

"Minerva offered me the Defense position at Hogwarts," Harry said, his voice steady and firm even as his eyes betrayed his anxiety. "I think I'm ready to go home."

"Ah," Draco said, third drink in hand. "How convenient."

"I don't suppose there's anything I could do to change your mind?" Kingsley said, as his eyes darted back from Harry to Severus, who truly wanted to look away, really he did.

Now Severus could identify that look, the nervous, hopeful quality of it, the way Harry seemed to be asking a question with his eyes. Harry was returning to Hogwarts, willingly entering Severus' prison, but to what end?

"Are you certain this is what you want...Mr. Potter?" he asked softly, his eyes never leaving Harry's. He meant only to ask if Harry was sure he wanted to take a teaching position when there were a host of other professions that might be better suited for him. He hadn't meant his words to sound so profound, or for his own eyes to return the hope and anxiety found in Harry's. But by the slight curve of Harry's mouth, the light that had been restrained coming back to life again, Severus knew he'd revealed everything he had wanted to keep hidden.

"Yes," Harry said plainly, his voice hoarse, his lips curved up in a slight smile. "Yes, I'm sure. I should probably go now...talk to the headmistress..."

"Ah," Severus said, and without warning, reality struck him like a blow. Harry was returning to Hogwarts, and there would be no evading him, no denying his desire for him this time. That thing that had threatened to descend upon Severus, every day and night for the past four years, swept through him and he was suddenly very aware that Harry was _here_.

There would be no escaping his prison. With Draco removed from his now non-existent list of possible replacements, Severus would never be able to leave Hogwarts. Only Lucius' death, and perhaps not even that, would give him his freedom. And Hogwarts was a prison. Any distraction from that was only that: distraction, not reality.

He thought he knew what Harry wanted—_thought_ he wanted—and the idea of it gave Severus more than a moment's pause. If they entered into a relationship and it ended poorly, there would be no escaping Harry for as long as he decided to stay at Hogwarts. And if Harry meant all that ridiculousness about finally coming home, it could mean a lifetime of awkwardness and pain.

The thought of having Harry briefly, only to lose him, then being forced to see him every day...

He clenched his fist and made to turn away, to deny Harry whatever it was he wanted.

But then he considered the lonely walk back to the dungeons and a weight fell on his shoulders at the idea of returning alone. His mind flickered over a dozen mundane, soul-crushing activities: teaching classes, marking papers, taking meals in the Great Hall. He didn't think he could endure another day of that, let alone a lifetime.

It would be incredibly easy to allow Harry to make life more tolerable. There would be someone there to talk with, to keep the sheets warm, to make the daily degradation somehow bearable.

"Severus?" Harry asked, his voice tentative and his eyes far more fearful now than they had been a moment ago.

Meeting Harry's eyes, Severus realized any justification of his actions would be futile. There was no possibility of making this something casual. There would be no ignoring Harry now, no denying that something had happened—was happening—between them.

His decision had already been made for him, he realized. It would still be a prison, but he might have a cellmate. Someone to help keep his sanity, and if he was lucky, a companion to face the coming years.

If he was _extremely_ lucky, and if Harry could stand him. The weight that had descended upon him when he'd released Draco from his obligation subsided somewhat, and he felt lighter and more hopeful than he had in years. It both frightened him and energized him at the same time, his heart once again beating madly. He felt alive, looking at Harry's lovely face and seeing that same hope and fear mirrored back at him.

Clearing his throat, his eyes shifted to the other two men, who were no doubt tiring of the ridiculousness of the situation, before he said, "Yes, you really should speak to her. I'll join you."

The light in the room seemed to increase and Severus' heart beat impossibly quicker as Harry smiled.

"Yeah," he said, pulling a few Galleons out of his pocket. "Merlin knows how many adventures I'd get into on my own."

"Easy, Potter," Draco said, his smile more genuine now, "you're on a professor's salary now."

Harry ignored Draco and said his goodbyes, walking quickly to the door and outside. Severus stood slowly, eager to regain _some_ of his dignity. "My apologies for that display," he said, even though Draco was smirking and even Kingsley seemed amused.

"Not at all, Severus," Kingsley said, standing and once again grasping his shoulder in a death grip. "Now when people ask I can say I was there when it began."

By some unspoken agreement, Severus and Harry walked back to the castle in silence. They walked neither too fast nor too slow, their pace almost forcefully restrained as they made their way along the path on a warm summer day.

The hope Severus had felt earlier was being drowned by his fear, but he refused to yield to it. He'd never had a relationship before that wasn't based solely on sex. Even the brief affairs he'd had during the second war were more a way to find release than anything else, and he was suddenly very aware that he was starting something he'd never attempted before.

He had no doubt Harry wanted him, but did Harry know his own mind? It was a very real possibility that this was simply an old schoolboy crush, a curiosity that would be satisfied by the end of the night. As Severus walked the familiar steps back to the dungeons, he cast a quick sideways look toward Harry, and knew he, Severus, wouldn't survive being tossed aside. He'd endured too many disappointments, and knew there would be no returning, should Harry walk away.

Fear and anger welled up within him as they approached Severus' rooms, and with a grunt, he grabbed Harry's collar and threw him against his door.

"Listen to me," he hissed, Harry's eyes going wide in surprise as Severus' body betrayed him, making a wild thrust up against Harry. "I am a desperate man. This place is a prison to me, and you could be..." he trailed off, not willing to reveal exactly how important Harry could become to him, but the softness of Harry's eyes said Severus had made it clear. "If you enter these rooms, I won't let you out again. I couldn't stand it, not with the both of us being here." He closed his eyes, his anger melting away as Harry's hands began to run up his arms, then his shoulders, before they grasped his face.

"Be sure," Severus whispered, opening his eyes to see Harry's unspoken answer. His smile was brilliant and his happiness was revealed in the brightness of his eyes, in the way his body relaxed even at Severus' unspoken threat.

"Yes," Harry whispered in response, then leaned up to kiss thin lips, and Severus couldn't help but gasp as he felt his heart melt, as he felt hope return and the chains of his imprisonment diminish.

"Yes," Harry said, as Severus pushed open the doors to his rooms with a bang, before he dragged Harry inside and slammed the door.

Overcome with desire, Severus threw Harry against the wall with the weight of his body, the sound of it making a loud thud that he hardly registered. With a groan, Harry responded by wrapping his arms around Severus and thrusting his tongue into his mouth with a deep kiss. Harry's hardened cock rubbed against Severus' thigh, and he pressed against Harry harder, eliciting a gasp as Harry tore at the flesh of his back.

Not wanting their first coupling to be standing up in his sitting room, Severus grabbed Harry's hand and led the way to his bedroom. He opened the door and watched as Harry took in the room, panting, his eyes hooded with desire, then looked back at Severus.

Their eyes meeting, Harry kicked off his shoes and unbuckled his belt before slowly sliding his trousers down to his ankles. His eyes never left Severus' as he unbuttoned his shirt, then tossed it in a corner, standing in only his pants. A new thrill of anticipation swept through Severus as he realized Harry was opening himself to his appraisal, revealing himself to him in a way only Severus would now know.

While he had no reason to feel shame over his body, Severus paused for a moment, then took heart at Harry's act of faith. Pushing aside his petty fears, Severus responded, removing his robes and starting on the buttons of his shirt. Swiftly crossing the few steps that stood between them, Harry took care of his shoes, tossing them aside before quickly relieving him of his trousers.

And suddenly they were both standing in his bedroom in their pants, their breaths coming out in gasps as one waited for the other to make the next move. With a smile, Harry reached his hands out to caress Severus' chest, slowly mapping out the sparse hair and seeming to admire his lightly muscled frame. His hands tenderly wandered down his side to his hips before he slowly removed Severus' pants, making a soft, contented sigh when his leaking cock was revealed.

Stepping out of his pants, Severus realized that this might be the time for slow. That it would be to his benefit to subdue his exploration of Harry's body, to acquaint himself with the loveliness he'd been denied these past years.

But as he took a step forward and nearly threw Harry on the bed, Severus knew that slow was for later. Now was the time to address the aching need within him, the roaring beast that had been eating at his heart for the past four years.

Quickly, he ripped off Harry's pants, silently apologizing for his speed, but _needing_ Harry so badly, there was no denying it.

To his relief, Harry gave a low moan as Severus began biting at his neck, his hand traveling down to tease Harry's nipples, elated at the gasp his attentions provoked. Arching his back, Harry whimpered, the sound of it sending a thrill through Severus, who then leaned down to take a nipple into his mouth.

"Yes," Harry whispered softly, and it almost seemed as though he was holding back the sounds of his satisfaction.

Forcing himself to slow, Severus lifted his head and kneeled between Harry's legs. The soft moans slowed, and Harry looked up, their eyes meeting before Severus leaned down to swallow Harry whole.

"Oh—fuck!" Harry cried out, then bit his lip, his hips jerking as he attempted not to thrust into Severus' mouth. Severus greedily swallowed around the cock in his mouth, his hands caressing Harry's sensitive inner thighs as his cries became louder.

With some hesitation, Severus quickly reached into his side table drawer and pulled out the lubricant. Waiting for Harry to open his eyes, Severus asked a silent question, receiving a nod in response. Harry parted his legs further and Severus happily returned to his leaking cock.

He worked a finger inside, delighting in the sounds Harry couldn't help but make as Severus found his prostate. Looking up from his task, Severus allowed himself to take in what was happening on his bed, the picture of debauched beauty currently splayed out before him.

Harry's head was thrown back, his fringe drenched with sweat and his lips blood red. The beautiful body Severus had only seen through loose clothing was on display for him to enjoy, and it was perfect. The sounds Harry was making caused Severus' cock to throb almost painfully as he inserted another finger.

And though he was pleased at the body that had found its way into his bed, Severus' heart leaped at the thought that he wouldn't be leaving. That Harry was his, that someone so kind and generous could have possibly found a way to want Severus.

He removed his fingers and positioned himself on top of Harry, holding his face in his hands and waiting to move until Harry opened his eyes.

And there it was—an ocean of promises whispered in silence between them, that this was the beginning of something, something that had started four years ago, something that had been stopped and was starting again.

"Yes," Harry whispered and Severus entered him, causing Harry to moan even as his eyes closed and he smiled. "Yes," he said again, using his thighs to coax Severus to a rhythm, wrapping his arms around his back as Severus fucked him slowly.

Harry seemed to be in as much of a hurry as Severus was, and he wrapped his legs around Severus' arse, urging him forward and clenching his muscles, pulling a startled gasp and a jerk of his hips from Severus.

Severus' eyelids fluttered and he increased his pace, fisting Harry's cock in his hand; even his feet were forcing Severus' cock faster and deeper.

All control left him and Severus shouted before pulling out and slamming back in. Tugging on Harry's cock, he encircled the head with his thumb, copious amounts of pre-come telling him Harry was close.

Harry came with a gasp, throwing his head back and coming onto Severus' hand and stomach. Taking in the glorious sight of Harry's face in orgasm, Severus paused, then bit his lip and thrust a few more times before grunting his release. His hips jerked one last time and his eyes closed before he sank down on top of Harry.

For a few moments, the only sound to be heard was their frantic breathing. As the afterglow faded, Severus felt his earlier fears returning to him, and he suddenly found himself reluctant to look at Harry's face.

The problem was solved for him a moment later when Harry leaned over him, pushing him down onto a pillow and kissing him slowly. With a sated smile, he wrapped himself around Severus and fell into a light doze.

"Ridiculous," Severus said to no one a few minutes later, amused at how quickly Harry had fallen asleep in his arms. The quietness of the room and the intimacy in which he found himself aided Severus' sleep as well. He drifted off and dreamt of an open field with the bluest sky he'd ever seen, Harry lying closely by his side.

It was only later, still between Severus' sheets, relaxed and sated, that Harry finally spoke.

"I fell in love with you the moment I saw you."

"I beg to differ," Severus said with a scoff as he stared up at the ceiling, burrowing further into the blankets, Harry draped over his chest. "Or at least I hope to."

Aside from his initial affirmation, Harry hadn't said much while they'd made love, Severus thought, reflecting on what had just happened. The desperate moans and rushed moves to satisfy what they'd both needed for so long had hardly been a real discussion. It was only Severus' own desire that had allowed Harry's simple, one word answer to be enough for him. Now, with the rush and burning need dealt with, Severus lay quietly, waiting for Harry's explanation.

"It was the first day of my seventh year, the day before we started our training," Harry said, running a hand over Severus' chest, lightly tugging on stray hairs. "I'd only figured out I was gay that summer, and...I really wasn't expecting you. I was late to the Welcoming Feast—"

"You were already causing me problems, as I recall."

"Yeah," Harry said fondly, then continued. "You swooped down on me and started berating me in your usual way, and I just... It was like a light went on, but I'd never noticed the room was dark. There you were in your teacher's robes in all your bat-like glory, and all I could think was how...magnificent you were."

"Magnificent?" Severus repeated, only holding back a laugh because of the tone of Harry's voice. "I'm already in bed with you, Harry, you needn't flatter me."

Hair tickled Severus' neck as Harry shook his head, his fingers still doing their tuneless dance across his chest. "A few months before, you were this ugly, heartless, cruel bastard and then suddenly... You were just so...much, so big. I had no idea what to do, I was a mess around you. And then we started training and that hardly helped." Warm breath caused the hair on Severus' neck to stand up as Harry struggled with his words. "I just knew I wanted to know you, as much as possible. There were times when Voldemort was in the back of my mind, and all I cared about was finding out what made you tick."

Petting Harry's hair, Severus permitted himself the luxury of thinking back on that time, on how much he had missed. It was only in hindsight that he recognized Harry's fumbling and uncharacteristic self-control during his training for what it was. The tentative peace they'd constructed had been based on Harry's sudden maturity, and, at the time, Severus had thought it had come from his desire to destroy the Dark Lord.

It was only now, with Harry in his arms for the foreseeable future, that he allowed himself the freedom to recognize the truth.

"I barely noticed you at the time," he admitted.

"Well, I _was_ barely seventeen and your student. It would've been weird for you. I realized that while I was away, but at the time..." Harry sighed and rolled so he was on his back, arm still flung over Severus' chest. "I thought I'd die of frustration. It was hell working with you so closely, slowly getting to know you, and then for it to end..."

Severus pulled away from Harry slightly, not wanting to talk about everything that had happened following the Dark Lord's demise. The consequences of those days were still affecting him, and he doubted he'd ever be capable of speaking openly of what had led to his servitude.

"When did you fall in love with me?" Harry asked, pulling him from his thoughts almost violently.

He sputtered, feeling blasted open with the way Harry had asked the question with such certainty, and asked, "What makes you believe I'm in love with you?"

The sheets rustled as Harry moved over Severus, smiling brightly before placing a kiss on his lips. Severus yielded to it, wrapping his arms around Harry, letting his hands run over his naked back, a soft moan torn from him as he felt his heart soar from so simple a gesture.

Slowly, Harry ended the kiss, cupping Severus' cheek with his hand before saying, "I think we're already in this too deep to start lying. We should probably both be aiming for nonchalant, but I really don't think it's going to work. Do you?"

As much as he wanted to deny it, to throw Harry off and demand he leave his rooms in order to regain his sense of balance, Severus pulled him closer, not willing to allow someone he'd wanted for so long to leave. With a genuine sigh—one of many to come, he imagined—Severus responded.

"No."

"Good," Harry said with a smile, then began to trace the lines on Severus' face with his finger. "I think I know the moment."

"What moment?" Severus asked as he attempted to remain still as Harry explored.

"The Victory Ball," Harry whispered, his smile diminishing only to be replaced by a look of awe. "I don't know what I did or said, but that was the first time you ever really _looked_ at me. It was—" he broke off and kissed Severus' face. "I'd never been happier, seeing myself in your eyes."

Severus had no idea what to say to that, and wanted nothing more than to hide beneath the covers like a frightened child. Harry seemed to have no trouble making grand, sweeping declarations, while Severus was finding it difficult to even look him in the eye.

"Did I say too much?"

"I—no," Severus said, looking past Harry to the ceiling. "That night is still very..." He closed his eyes and tried to keep the feeling of suffocation away.

"Oh. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"The events of that night are something I have to live with every day, since that day and for the rest of my life. It is difficult to talk about, but not because of you. Seeing you that night..."

"Shh," Harry said, covering Severus' lips with his own again until the threat of that terrible weight left him. "I've thought about that night every day for the last four years. I remember the struggle...how I wanted to beg you to stay, but I wouldn't. I'm so sorry you couldn't leave—"

"Be quiet!" Severus said, rolling Harry to his back, his hair falling over Harry's face as he pinned him to the bed. "I do not wish to speak about _any_ of it, now or ever."

"Severus, just let me—"

"Shut your mouth, Potter, or you can leave this instant," he said with a hiss, and he meant it. He had no desire to rehash what had happened or hear Harry's meaningless apologies and pity.

"I just need you to know this one thing—"

Gripping Harry's shoulders hard, he shouted, "I don't want to hear it! I have no desire to hear your apologies over things that cannot be changed."

"I wasn't going to apologize," Harry said, not at all frightened by the way Severus restrained him. "I just wanted to tell you...I wasn't going to say anything at the Three Broomsticks."

"What?" Severus asked, his anger still a formidable force, his grip tightening on Harry's shoulders.

Harry deflated, and he looked away from Severus. "I was going to let you go."

Raising an eyebrow, Severus' anger subsided somewhat as he said, "Make sense, Potter."

Slowly, he turned back to Severus, his face red, that lovely smile gone. "McGonagall told me you were leaving, that Malfoy was taking over. I really was considering Kingsley's offer."

Releasing his shoulders, Severus calmed himself enough to listen.

"I'd heard about that job of Malfoy's..." Harry trailed off, stumbling over his words as though he was trying and failing to say something important. "I knew, but I wasn't going to say anything. I know you hate this place, that you'd be happier if you could leave, and I..."

Biting his lip, Harry reached up to grab Severus' face and said firmly, "I'm sorry that we couldn't be together somewhere else, anywhere else. I'm sorry that you can't leave, but...I didn't want you to stay here. I'd rather you leave and not be with me than..."

Something twisted inside Severus at Harry's fumbling for the right words. He'd wondered about that display at the bar, but hadn't said a word. As far as he knew, Harry had simply been weighing his options.

"I don't know if I would've come to Hogwarts if you hadn't been here. It just wouldn't be the same without you," he admitted softly, as though voicing a sin. "But if something changes and you can leave...I'd want you to go."

"That is...unlikely..." Severus said, even as his respect and tenderness for Harry grew. "However, the sentiment is appreciated."

Harry sighed, as though a heavy weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Slowly, his hands resumed their exploration of Severus' face, the touch so gentle Severus wanted to close his eyes to lean into it. He closed his right eye as Harry's thumb ran over it, and Harry said, "I just don't want you to have the wrong idea...about me. I'm not trying to trap you."

"No," Severus said. "I didn't think you were."

"I just wanted to start—"

Flipping them over, Severus silenced Harry with a kiss, feeling as though that had been enough talking for one night.


	3. Chapter 3

Over the next few months, Severus became amazed at how much his life changed, yet stayed exactly the same. He still hated Hogwarts, still loathed teaching moronic students, still despised his colleagues, and left more than enough red ink on assignments to voice his dissatisfaction with his situation. It was still difficult to get out of bed in the mornings, but now... Well, now there was a slightly different reason for that.

If he'd had doubts that Harry truly did love him before, they were erased in those first few months of being together. Harry seemed hell-bent on making Severus' time in Hogwarts tolerable, and his every word and action reflected that.

Harry hadn't bothered making up his own rooms. While he officially resided in Gryffindor Tower, Harry's home was in the dungeons. Every morning he cheerfully woke Severus with a kiss, or occasionally something a bit more enthusiastic, eager to start Severus' days in 'the best way' as he'd put it.

Initially Severus had scoffed, thoroughly believing that days could never begin well as long as they began at Hogwarts, but Harry wouldn't give up. They had breakfast side-by-side in the Great Hall, Harry making conversation with Severus, always drawing him into talking with others. And since Harry wanted to discuss politics, their so called 'mutual' friends, and the world in general, Severus was forced to do so as well.

Though after four years of ignoring the world completely, to be suddenly thrust into it was jarring to say the least.

But still Harry didn't give up. He was patient when Severus lost his temper, kind when Severus admitted he had no clue on the Wizengamot's latest ruling, and understanding when Severus outright refused to read about the progress Draco's professor was making with the cure to lycanthropy.

And when the days became too long, when Severus thought he'd go mad if he had to mark one more badly written essay or if he had to supervise one more detention, Harry was there. Sometimes with a glass of something to make his head stop throbbing, sometimes with a calming potion, and sometimes with his mouth on Severus' cock, forcing away the cares of the day.

Severus was forced to admit those were his favorite times.

And so he found himself cared for and loved for the first time in his life. It often occurred to Severus that their relationship had become fairly one-sided, but he had no idea what could be done about it. The one time he had gathered the courage to voice his concerns to Harry, he'd simply smiled at him and said it was all right. That if Harry was ever cast into his own personal prison, Severus could return the favor.

As much as Severus wanted to let the matter lie and simply enjoy the caring attention of a very giving lover, he wasn't satisfied with Harry's answer.

It was only late at night, with both of them half-asleep and Harry in his arms, that Severus allowed himself to poke the sleeping dragon.

"Why, Harry?" he asked into the darkness as Harry shifted so his nose was buried in Severus' hair.

"Why what?"

"Why...all of this? You must know I've never had anything even remotely comparable to this. You care for me in ways..." he trailed off, not able to voice his appreciation for everything Harry did for him. He could barely accept it, and couldn't even begin to understand it.

Harry said nothing and turned Severus' arm over, running his fingers over the Dark Mark. In an obvious attempt at distraction, he asked, "Did it hurt?"

"Yes," Severus said, gently removing his arm from Harry's perusal. Faded or not, he'd wished the entire thing had disappeared with the Dark Lord, the slight weight of it something he knew he'd live with for the rest of his life. Casting away those thoughts, he turned back to Harry, not willing to be so easily distracted. "Harry..."

"Because I love you, Severus...and because I'm happy," Harry mumbled into his hair, then burrowed further into the blankets.

"You're happy?" he asked, confused. "And how exactly does that affect your behavior towards me?"

He heard a long sigh before Harry pulled the blanket over them tighter.

"Because I'm happy...and you're not. I l_ike_ being here, and I like being here with you. And you...don't. It just seems right that I should try to make it better for you in any way I can. All right?"

Severus stared into the darkness, completely flummoxed, not knowing what to say to Harry's reasoning. It was true, he did hate being here, and no amount of Harry's kindness would completely distract him from his desire to leave. But none of that was Harry's fault, and Severus could sense the guilt coming from Harry now, perceive it in his actions now that it had been pointed out. Guilt that he was happy while Severus wasn't.

Except that wasn't exactly true.

His heart twisted as he imagined the remorse Harry must have suffered while believing he was Severus' consolation prize, and knew he had to put a stop to it immediately.

"Harry," he said softly and waited for Harry's mumbled reply before continuing, "Harry, I hate this place and nearly everyone in it." At Harry's wince, he reached up to slowly caress his hair, hoping the sentiment behind the gesture would be noted. "I hate teaching, I hate nearly all the students and most of my colleagues, and I hate having to review the same thing year after year. If I ever allowed myself to think of the world outside this castle for too long, I believe I'd drive myself insane. There are times I think I can literally see my life passing me by, and it frightens me to the point where I'm nearly paralyzed with rage."

Harry had gone still while Severus was speaking, his breathing even and shallow, as though he didn't want to call attention to himself while Severus thought about his situation. Knowing Harry's guilt was now accompanied by fear, Severus grabbed him tighter, not willing for the misunderstanding to go on any longer.

"If I could leave here, I would, in a heartbeat. But I'd take you with me," he whispered into Harry's ear, moving his nose out of harm's way as Harry's head popped up.

"What?"

"You're not Hogwarts, Harry," Severus said, his hands framing Harry's face. "It's not your fault I'm here. In fact, I can safely say you are the one good thing in my life, the only thing that's kept me from completely losing myself to despair."

"I—I just wanted—"

"I know," Severus said, kissing him softly, allowing his hands to caress the firm, naked flesh it found. "And it's made all the difference."

"But I don't want to stop," Harry said with a gasp, even as Severus continued his stroking. "I—fuck—I like doing those things for you."

Knowing that his response would set the tone for the rest of their relationship, Severus schooled his face to impassivity and said, "Who said anything about stopping?"

Harry laughed, then moaned as Severus pulled back the covers and took Harry's cock into his mouth, returning the favor enthusiastically as he showed Harry how much he was appreciated.

Severus paused before the Room of Requirement and tapped his foot unhappily while trying to think of the proper way to phrase what it was he required.

Finally, he turned on his heel and walked the area three times while thinking _I have to see what foolishness Harry's thought up this time._

The request worked, much to his amusement, and Severus found the handle to the door, but paused before opening it.

This wasn't the first time Harry had requested his presence at this place, Severus thought as his hand ghosted over the knob. Despite his best intentions, they were one year into their relationship and Severus knew it was as one-sided as ever. While he didn't worry about it as he once had, a new feeling had begun to grow within him.

It was inexplicable, but Severus dearly wanted to do something for Harry. Harry was _still_ making him feel loved and cared for on a daily basis, still fixing his tea just the way he liked it, making conversation when Severus thought the silence of his office would cause the roof to cave in, and did everything with such enthusiasm it was frightening.

Severus knew he had no skill at the little things. He tried to do for Harry as Harry did for him, but he just wasn't capable of being that thoughtful every moment of every day. He was troubled by it at first, thinking perhaps it meant he didn't love Harry as much as Harry loved him. But then Harry had grown ill last January, so ill Severus had had to set up a workstation in the infirmary in order to make the potions he needed, unwilling to leave Harry's side.

He shuddered as a chill ran down his spine. No, after that incident he'd had no doubt he loved Harry dearly.

Still, he wished there was something he could give Harry, something that _meant_ something, something grand. Little things were all well and good to a noble Gryffindor, but Severus often had to expend all his energy simply getting through his day.

With a sigh, Severus hoped an opportunity would present itself soon, and opened the door to the Room of Requirement.

It was the wind, he decided, that affected him first. As he opened the door and took a step inside, his senses were immediately besieged by an aroma of spices, and the smell of desert and the animals that lived there. The scent was such a surprise to him he hardly noticed the door being shut behind him or anything else in the room while his mind was trying to catch up with what he was smelling.

Realization struck him as soon as he was able to take in the place to which he'd been summoned. The room had become the desert at night, stretching out as far as the eye could see. Never before had he witnessed the room take on a dimension larger than its own, but as he stared into the distance, he felt as though he could see the bluffs from miles away. He turned to where he thought might be east and saw a small city perhaps a mile away, and there were lights flickering in the windows of houses that looked like something out of _Arabian Nights_.

"Hi."

Turning to the last area of the room, Severus' eyes went impossibly wider as he saw Harry sitting cross-legged on a deep purple blanket surrounded by pillows.

"Like what I did with the place?"

An absent nod was the best Severus could do as he walked closer to Harry, sitting down on one of the pillows before casting a look upward.

The ceiling of the Great Hall couldn't compare to the night sky Harry had created.

"I thought you might like this," Harry said, coming closer to Severus and wrapping his arms around him from behind. "I know sometimes you'd like to forget the world exists, but it does. It's there for us to visit when we'd like."

Severus absently realized now that summer was upon them they could indeed travel the world together. Having a traveling companion had never been part of Severus' plans, and he hummed in approval as he leaned back on the pillows to watch the sky. A shooting star streaked through the dark, and Severus marveled at what the room had done for Harry.

"How..." he started to ask, but drifted off before he could properly form the question.

Harry shrugged and laid his head on Severus' shoulder. "Turns out the Room is fairly well-read. I just thought about something from a Scheherazade story, and it did the rest."

"I imagine you're trying to warm me to some idea you have," Severus warned, though he had no intention of denying Harry anything. He had no desire to, especially after such a gesture.

"A bit, yeah," Harry said softly, his body suddenly going rigid so Severus was forced to turn away from the awe-inspiring spectacle to look at him.

He was immediately reminded of that day at the Three Broomsticks, with Harry internally warring with himself while Severus could only watch. Harry bit his lip and considered the blanket for a moment before a nervous chuckle escaped. Taking a deep breath, which only caused Severus to worry about what was to come, Harry looked up and spoke.

"The thing is..." Harry said, taking Severus' hand in his own, "I love you. Have for a while. I can't imagine being with anyone else but you, and I never want to be without you. I was wonder—wondering," he said, fumbling now with a pocket, "if maybe you felt the same. If you'd like to build a life with me...a family?"

Not daring to guess what Harry was really asking, Severus chanced a glance at his pocket, where he could now see a small black box being pulled from the depths.

Harry clearing his throat brought Severus back to the present, though his heart seemed to understand what was happening and began beating loudly in response.

"Hey, Severus," Harry said, his voice breaking as he tried and failed to sound relaxed, "you want to marry me?"

Slowly, he lifted up his palm and with the other hand fumbled to open the box, revealing two plain bands of gold.

"One for me and one for you," Harry said, not bothering to conceal his nervousness now that the question had been asked. "It's summer now, but I was thinking maybe we could do it before the winter holidays. We could do it here, that way we could save..." he trailed off as Severus' eyes left the box and drifted up to meet his. "That way we could afford a great trip, see all those places you always wanted to see. And I've had my eye on this little house in Hogsmeade. It's older, but there are a lot of rooms..."

Severus had no idea what to say. He'd never considered this as a possibility; the very idea of it had never crossed his mind. Marriage wasn't something for men like him.

His reticence must have shown plainly on his face because Harry looked as though his heart were breaking as the silence stretched on. Not wanting to be misunderstood, Severus latched onto the one word that had stuck out to him, even more than the idea of marriage.

"Family?" he asked in a croak, and Harry's pale complexion turned red as his eyes drifted down to the floor.

"Yeah," Harry said slowly, "family. I...want kids, Severus. I really want kids. Not right now," he said quickly, as though the Room would conjure a child out of thin air, "but it's something I've always dreamed of, and I know... Well, I know how you feel about _these_ kids, but everyone says it's different when they're your own."

Severus doubted that, but said nothing as he turned from Harry to look out over the sandy dunes. He knew any other man would jump at the chance that was being given to him. He realized how fortunate he was to have Harry, who could have nearly anyone he wanted, but for some reason wanted Severus. The idea of marriage was something he'd have to get used to, but he had to admit the idea of spending his life with Harry was a welcome one.

But children...

If marriage had never entered his mind until this moment, children hadn't been a part of his universe. What kind of a parent would he be with his disposition and what kind of child would he raise? He had no patience to speak of, and doubted he had any hidden in the deep recesses of his psyche. Just the idea of a child in his rooms—had Harry said something about a house?—was enough to make him squirm uncomfortably.

And he couldn't ask Harry to forgo his desires for his sake. Not after everything he had done for Severus, what he seemed committed to continue doing for the rest of their lives. And the idea that Harry somehow thought Severus would be a good father...

"You have a great faith in me, Harry," he whispered as a breeze drifted by, filling the air with the scent of ginger and cumin, lighting Severus' senses on fire as his heart beat wildly inside his chest. "I don't— My own father—"

"You'd be a great dad," Harry said, dropping the box and grabbing Severus' hands in his own. "We'd figure it out together when the time's right, which won't be for a few years at least."

Severus wanted to ask where Harry stored his seemingly endless supply of hope and enthusiasm, but said nothing as images of failure swirled in his mind's eye. Marriage he could understand, but this...

"Is this something you truly want?"

Scrutinizing Harry as he seemed to draw strength from some inner source, Severus watched as he brought his hands to his lips and kissed them. With no small amount of desperation, Harry whispered, "Yes. More than anything, but only with you."

And in a moment something flashed within Severus, some recognition of what was truly happening, something beyond a star-lit proposal on the supposed sands of an Arabian desert.

This was Harry's greatest desire. It was something large, something life-changing, and something within Severus' power to grant. Little things be damned, this was his chance to do something great for Harry.

But was it something he was actually prepared to do?

He considered it a moment longer before looking at Harry, seeing how he was beginning to despair, and then made his decision.

He sighed dramatically, then picked up the box from the floor, taking a long look at the simple, elegant gold.

"I don't believe I've ever owned a piece of jewelry, but I suppose it _is_ plain enough," he said while Harry began to breathe again. "You'll give me a few years to grow used to the idea of little Potters running amuck, won't you?"

"Yes!" Harry said loudly, before clearing his throat. "Yes, you can have all the time you want."

Severus smiled and closed the box before saying, "All right, then. I'll marry—" He was immediately assaulted by Harry, who threw him down onto the pillows, his kisses desperate, breathing as though he'd been held under water.

"Oh," Harry sighed as he kissed Severus' face and began removing his robes. "I'm going to make you so happy."

To that Severus gave a genuine smile, the one he reserved only for Harry, and thought he was already as happy as he could be. As Harry seemed set on devouring him, Severus allowed himself a moment to appreciate where life was taking him. By permitting Draco to escape this prison, Severus had given him a chance at marriage and family, but he'd never once thought of anything for himself.

As Harry's bare flesh met his own, Severus felt a surge of something completely unfamiliar within him. He had to think back nearly thirty years before he realized what it was that Harry had gifted to him.

Hope.

As Harry began sucking his cock in earnest, Severus felt a thrill of another kind run through his chest, setting his heart afire. Perhaps he was unable to leave Hogwarts, but he'd have Harry, and in a few years...

He pushed away the fear that threatened to overtake him, and concentrated on life, on the idea of life continuing, and he and Harry having a part in it.

He was pulled from his thoughts as Harry whispered a lubrication spell, then gave him a smile so beautiful it distracted him from the spectacle of the night sky. Though Severus usually preferred to be on his hands and knees when he bottomed, he allowed Harry to spread his thighs and position him in a completely undignified manner. He forced his eyes not to roll and thought he'd gladly forgo the pleasure of meeting Harry thrust for thrust if it made him happy.

"I love you so much," Harry whispered as he entered Severus slowly, lacing their hands together as he established a rhythm. Eventually Harry laid his head down to rest by Severus' neck, whispering half-coherent endearments as they made love, enabling Severus to take in the world he'd created. He kept his eyes open as Harry gently thrust into him, and lost himself in pleasure, marveling at both the man he loved and the Arabian night sky that now seemed only half as grand as Harry's real gift.

* * *

Cedric smiled at the picture in the little window, pleased to see Professor Snape and Harry so happy with each other. He'd seen so much of Professor Snape's life that he was beginning to feel as though he knew him, that he was a friend, and it was a relief to see him smile for a change.

"Merlin, it's disgusting, isn't it?" Sirius said, looking at the same picture. Cedric frowned at him.

"The poor man's been through enough, don't you think?" Cedric asked, his good nature tested by Sirius' continuing vitriol. "Honestly, it's a relief to see him happy for a change."

"My sentiments exactly," Dumbledore said, smiling at the picture the two of them made. "Severus became very familiar with being happy while miserable when he began seeing Harry, and I was never happier for Severus than on the day of their marriage."

"Please don't remind me of that," Sirius grumbled as he buried his head in his hands.

"I'll bet it was nice," Cedric said with a smile. "Did they do the full bonding and everything?"

Dumbledore grinned and nodded. "The entire affair took Severus by surprise. I don't think he ever considered the possibility of being married, let alone to Harry. To Severus, marriage was another step in the direction of living, something he felt he couldn't truly do while at Hogwarts."

"But Harry helped him, didn't he? He made him see it wasn't all that bad?" Cedric asked, confused as to how Professor Snape could still not allow himself happiness.

"Harry made him happy, yes, but Severus could never fully embrace life when he still felt so shackled," Dumbledore said, running a hand through his beard. "When they married, everything was as perfect as could be. It was the day before Hogwarts let out for the Christmas holidays, and Severus and Harry were married in a charmed orchard on a sunny winter day." Dumbledore waved his hand and suddenly Severus and Harry appeared in all their wedding finery, sitting at table and scowling. A grim smile crossed over Dumbledore's face as he began to listen in on what Draco was saying, before he turned away.

Sirius sighed. "That...was a very strange day. It's not every day you watch your godson get married to a man you hate."

"Were you watching that day?" Cedric asked.

"Course I was," Sirius said, kicking up a bit of ground with his shoe. "It's Harry, after all. I...you know...love him."

"So what happened?" Cedric asked Dumbledore, who was still watching Draco.

"Something that solidified Severus' idea that life was something to fight through, not enjoy." His gaze became bothered as he gestured for Cedric to listen.

* * *

"A lot of people ask me about Severus and Potter," Draco said to the small crowd of people at their wedding reception. He held his glass a bit higher and smiled. "They always mention what an incredibly odd pair they are and how unlikely it was that they got together." He took a perfectly timed pause, then said, "I can actually say I was there the first time Severus noticed Potter was completely in love with him."

"I'm going to have to kill him," Harry muttered under his breath. "I can already tell."

"Too many witnesses," Severus said, hoping he hadn't made an enormous mistake asking Draco to be his best man. It wasn't as though there had been a long list of people lined up for the job, but he'd forgotten how much Draco loved having people look at him.

"There Potter was, standing around the Great Hall during the Victory Ball..." Draco trailed off and made an exaggerated sigh before continuing, "and anyone could tell he was just crazy over Severus. He was like a little puppy begging to be taken in from the streets."

"Right," Harry said, fingering his wand, "I'm going to kill him."

"I believe the Wizengamot might have something to say about you killing a person."

"Is he a person? And besides, the Wizengamot loves me. I killed a Dark Lord for them."

"An act which Draco enabled, if you recall."

"And there was Severus," Draco said, clutching his fist to his chest, "mouth hanging open, hardly able to string two words together to make a sentence, completely taken in by Potter's charm. But the real beginning..." he said, lifting a finger to a captivated audience, "came four years later, at a pub in Hogsmeade."

"On second thought, perhaps we _should_ kill him," Severus said, loosening his grip on Harry's arm.

"You should've never made him your best man."

"At least he didn't attempt to send naked dancing boys to _my_ rooms last night."

"Hey, what do you want?" Harry said, turning to Severus. "I sent them away. Plus, that was just Ron's way of...trying to accept things."

"He accepts me into your life by giving you other men?"

"I never saw a couple so in love, yet so in denial," Draco continued. "There they were, completely ignoring everyone else at the table, just staring into each other's eyes," Draco said, causing the crowd to laugh, no doubt at the idea of Severus staring into anyone's eyes without trying to hex them. The only person who seemed to believe a word of the rubbish Draco was spewing was Molly Weasley, who was bawling loudly into a handkerchief.

"When Potter told Severus he'd decided to take the position at Hogwarts, Severus said he'd escort him back to the castle. But what he was really saying was, he'd escort him into his heart."

"That's it. Dead man walking!" Harry shouted, and Severus put an arm on his shoulder to hold him down.

"They were destined to be together, I think," Draco said, ignoring a squirming Harry sitting not five feet from him. "If not because they were made for each other, then because no one else would have them."

The crowd made a sympathetic noise through the laughter, and Severus began mentally preparing a death list.

Draco raised his glass higher and said, "All joking aside, I couldn't be happier to be here today, toasting the happy couple. Sometimes you see a pair, and can't imagine what they see in each other, let alone why they're together." He then turned to address Severus and Harry. "But looking at the two of you, I think it's obvious to anyone with eyes that you're crazy for each other. I wish you every happiness." He paused and smiled, meeting Severus' eyes and giving him a nod.

"To Severus and Harry!"

The crowd repeated the toast and laughed, patting Draco on the back and making their way back to their tables.

"Well, at least it was better than Weasley's" Severus said under his breath.

"Oh, come on. It was not," Harry said in protest, still barely holding back his rage.

"At least Draco's jokes were _meant_ to be jokes, not barely-concealed attacks on my character, laughed at by a confused wedding crowd."

"He _was_ joking!"

"'When I first heard Harry was marrying Snape, I told him I could get him out of the country by tonight. Offer still stands, mate.'"

Harry barked out a laugh before lifting a hand to cover his smile, while Severus hid a smirk. "Say 'mate' again."

"No. All things considered, I believe this was a success," Severus said, conceding his happiness in the only way he knew how. The band of gold still felt odd on his finger, but the warm weight of it was already a comfort.

"Is that your way of saying you're glad you married me?"

Turning to him, Severus made sure no one was looking their way before placing a brief kiss on Harry's lips. The smile he received in return was enough to light the garden.

"We _are_ married, you know? It's okay for people to see that."

"Not all of us are attention hounds, Harry."

Harry laughed, and Severus couldn't help but marvel at the joy that sprung forth through the noise, how Harry had been laughing like that all day. Turning his head so no one else could see, he gave Harry a rare smile before taking his hand under the table.

They sat like that for a while, their fingers doing a tuneless dance around each other's, their eyes occasionally meeting in a heated glance. Severus was just about to bring Harry's hand to his half-hard cock, hidden behind the tablecloth, when suddenly Draco snuck up from behind them.

"So..." Draco started, still seeming very pleased with himself, "where are the two of you off to? School ends..."

"In two days, but Minerva was kind enough to find replacements for our classes," Severus said, holding Harry's hand now for a different reason entirely. "We're leaving tonight, in a few hours actually."

"A week in Rangoon, Christmas in Buenos Aires, and then the new year in New York," Harry said, steadfastly keeping his eyes on Severus'.

Draco whistled. "Must have set you back a few Galleons. Had to make a dip in the Potter fortune?"

Harry bit his lip, and Severus continued holding his hand, the grip just shy of crushing. "No," Harry said through his teeth, "we saved for it. Not too difficult when the ceremony cost us practically nothing."

Draco looked around in appreciation, as though he hadn't noticed the flowers that were blooming in the beginning of winter or how the temperature was a mild seventy degrees. "Must be nice to have friends in the right places."

"Indeed, Harry's friends are dependable and giving, if nothing else." In truth Severus was grateful for everything that had been done, even if the reception seemed to be more for the guests than for the wedded couple. Filius had charmed the entire garden and Minerva had asked the house-elves for help with the meal. And he supposed the cake Molly Weasley had made was acceptable, even if he found the two tiny wizards kissing on top to be a bit ostentatious.

"They did it for us, Severus," Harry said, making a gesture to everyone in attendance. "Most of these people have known you a lot longer than they've known me."

Severus doubted that, but said nothing. Perhaps Harry had brought him out of his shell this past year and a half, but he was sure his colleagues had not forgotten the wreck he was after Lucius' crusade to destroy Slytherin. If there was any affection for him in any of their hearts, Severus was sure it was Harry's doing.

"I'm sure most of these people just came to see if Potter was capable of speaking and standing at the same time," Draco said, in a joking tone. "Oh, and look!" he exclaimed with a devious grin, "you managed to tie your shoe laces. Did you do it all by yourself or did Weasley help you?"

"Draco," Severus said in warning, digging his nails into Harry's hand even as Harry was reaching for his wand with the other, "thank you for coming."

With a laugh that let both of them know he'd done exactly what he'd set out to do, Draco gave a half-bow and took his leave.

"Why I put up with that ponce of a ferret—"

"Is the same reason I put up with that imbecile you call your best friend," Severus said, watching Weasley fumble across the dance floor with Granger in tow. He stepped on her foot and she laughed through the pain, and Harry waved at them, offering a soft smile. Severus had been fortunate enough to avoid them for much of their relationship, but he had a feeling their company would be unavoidable now.

He sighed as Harry took his hand in his, then brought it up to his lips.

"Severus," he said with a leer so that Severus' eyes automatically traveled down to Harry's crotch, lamenting the loosely flowing robes that covered what he desired most. "Do you want to—"

"Absolutely," Severus said, getting to his feet, ready to Apparate to that newly bought shack Harry called a home, chastising himself for having packed the good lubricant.

"Really?" Harry said, nearly bouncing. "I thought you'd say no—"

"Wait a moment," Severus said, an alarm bell going off in his head. "You _were_ asking if I wanted to slink out the back with you?"

Harry frowned and gestured to the guests. "It's _our_ wedding. We can't leave now. And actually..." he trailed off and looked to the floor as his cheeks reddened, "I was wondering if you wanted to dance."

"What?" Severus asked, flummoxed.

"It's our _wedding_," Harry said in protest, as though that simple fact was argument enough. "Come on, one dance and I'll never ask again. Not until our fiftieth anniversary."

"I'd be too old to stand properly," Severus said, smirking at Harry's bark of nervous laughter. Still, he had no desire to make a fool of himself, and said, "I never learned to dance. You would like to be able to walk through Rangoon, I assume?"

"I never learned either, not properly at least," Harry said, coming close to him and taking Severus' hands in his. "We'll sway...in slight circles. It'll be dancing in the loosest definition."

Looking again to the crowd, Severus noticed how a few of them were looking their way, clearing a section of the grassy area that passed for a dance floor for the two of them. He supposed it wouldn't be too terrible, and it wasn't every day he could gift Harry with something he truly wanted. Decision made, he gave a long-suffering sigh, and asked, "Must I?"

With a smile that conveyed an ocean of affection, Harry beamed and looked Severus dead in the eye before he shook his head and said, "No."

Severus hadn't expected that response, he thought to himself, even as he felt his heart stir. Before he realized he had done so, he caught himself looking back to the castle, to choices that had been taken from him, before turning back to Harry.

And in a brief moment of clarity, he knew without a doubt that he'd made the right decision. That Harry would never attempt to stifle him, never try to trap him. With Harry he would always have a choice.

It made it far easier to make the right one.

With another put-upon sigh, he leaned forward and let his forehead touch Harry's. Laying the lightest of kisses on his lips, he whispered, "Oh, very well. But only for a moment. I still want to get back to the house so I can fuck you properly before the Portkey's set to activate."

Harry moaned, and Severus knew if he wanted it, he could be fucking Harry inside of ten minutes. Lust aside, Severus knew what Harry really wanted, and he would give it to him. To a round of applause and whistles, Severus took Harry's hand as they walked to the dance floor.

"I'll lead," Severus said, putting his hand where he'd seen men put their hands when dancing, then summoned all his willpower to begin a light sway.

"All right," Harry said as he put a hand on Severus' shoulder. "I'll lead on our fiftieth...what with you being too old to walk and all."

Severus forced himself to keep a straight face until he could no longer hold back his laughter, and by then it was a loud rumble that caused the crowd to clap even louder than before.

"See," Harry whispered against his ear. "Everyone loves you. It's not just me."


	4. Chapter 4

"Get...them...off!" Severus shouted as he pushed Harry onto the bed, tearing his trousers down and growing frustrated at even the concept of shoes. With a laugh, Harry kicked off the offending black Oxfords, and finished the job Severus had started on his trousers and pants, revealing a swollen, red cock Severus set out to devour.

There was a restrained sound of moaning as Severus began to suck in earnest, while Harry dug his fingers into his hair, his feet kicking down the sheets and pressing into Severus' back. Harry was always quiet at the beginning of their activities, but only to a certain point. Severus had no idea why Harry always tried to restrain himself, especially when he bottomed, always biting his lip to keep quiet until the last possible moment. The line was always there, and it was never a difficult task in finding it and crossing it every single time.

The soft little moans Harry made were beginning to grow louder, so Severus hollowed his cheeks and ran his tongue over the vein on the underside of his cock, lapping up pre-come as quickly as he could. The taste was exquisite as always, a sensation he knew he would never tire of, and he groaned deep in his throat.

And suddenly, there it was.

Harry moaned and began to mutter, "Please, Severus, please. Don't—"

Lifting his head up, Severus quickly gathered the lubricant from one of their traveling bags and drifted back to Harry, not wanting to keep him waiting now that he was ready. But as much as he would've liked to hoist Harry's legs over his head and allow himself the freedom of plowing straight into him, he was forced to slow enough to appreciate the moment in which he found himself.

As much as he loathed sentimentality, he realized something as he concentrated on Harry's face.

This was their marriage bed, he thought, even as Harry thrust his hips up and pulled at Severus' hair. They were about to consummate their marriage.

"Severus," Harry said with a moan, tugging and pulling at him as though he couldn't understand why Severus was delaying. Calming his breathing, controlling the lust and desire and _need_ within him, Severus held Harry's face in his hands and kissed him deeply. Harry mumbled his approval and maneuvered Severus on top of him, spreading his thighs so Severus fell in between.

"Harry," he murmured, as his lubricated fingers began to explore Harry's arse, "Harry..." He meant to say something sentimental and tender, something that would reveal the status of his heart, and how Harry was its sole inhabitant. Instead, he held Harry's gaze—his expression without a doubt lost—and fumbled for the correct words.

As he positioned Harry's legs on either side of him and nudged the head of his cock against the opening, Harry smiled through the anticipation, and seemed to understand what Severus was trying to say.

_I never thought I'd be here. Never in a hundred years did I ever think I could have someone who could even compare to you._

Somehow, he knew Harry heard him, his eyes shining brightly, smiling as though Severus had given him the greatest of gifts.

"Severus, I—oh..." Harry sighed as Severus entered him. Severus closed his eyes as he buried himself inside, memorizing how beautiful Harry was in that moment, marveling at how much Harry loved him.

Amazed at how much he loved Harry in return.

"Fuck, yes," Harry mumbled as Severus increased the tempo of his thrusts, meeting Harry's prostate with every stroke of his hips. Fingernails dug into the flesh of his back and he felt himself squeezed by the strength of Harry's thighs as he pushed Severus to increase his thrusting.

"Harry..." he whispered as his pace increased, muttering endearments that he'd never told another soul, words that he would speak only to Harry, and only like this.

"Yes," Harry hissed as Severus began to work his cock, as Harry's arse muscles clenched as he came, calling out Severus' name and pulling him down with him.

They lay there in the dimly lit room, the sun just peeking through the window and casting a golden glow over Harry's body. Severus let his hand roam, giving time to the study of hairy legs, toned calves, and perfect arse. His hand trailed up to Harry's arm, the setting sun reflecting on the gold band on his finger.

"So what do you think?" Harry asked, his voice sated and sleepy. "Any second thoughts?"

"None," Severus said in a solemn vow. A year and a half later and he still had no idea what he had done to deserve Harry in his life.

"Good," Harry said with a yawn, stretching and draping himself over Severus in a languid embrace. "Mine now."

"Mmm," Severus replied, turning his head as Harry nuzzled his face happily. "Mine now."

With great reluctance, Harry peeled himself off Severus a few minutes later and made an attempt to remove himself from bed. "We should get up. I doubt we have much— Shit."

Severus turned to Harry, then followed his line of sight to the empty side table.

The side table which, until a few moments ago, had held a Ministry-sanctioned coffee cup that would have taken them straight to Rangoon.

"Shit," Severus repeated, then pulled Harry down with him again. "I won't be the one to go asking for a new one."

"Oh?" Harry said, smiling again as though their travel plans hadn't just been upended. "Why not? You were the one who had your hand halfway down my pants while we were dancing."

"First, that could hardly be called dancing. Second, I did nothing of the sort, and if I did it was done in a way where no one else could notice," Severus said with a sniff.

"Well, robes are good for something," Harry admitted, lying back down. "I think this is a good thing, actually." At Severus' glare, Harry explained, "This way I can go and get another Portkey tomorrow, and I _will_ get it, you know that. I mean, what good's killing a Dark Lord if you're not going to get at least a few small favors? But that's tomorrow. Tonight..." he said, his eyes roaming over Severus' exposed body. "Tonight I don't have to share you with a jungle full of potions ingredients."

"Insatiable," Severus said, then groaned as Harry took a nipple into his mouth and flicked it with his tongue. "I suppose time in bed is better spent than time anywhere else in this house."

"Hey!" Harry said, removing his mouth from where Severus wanted it. "I like this old house. And it's got...potential. It just needs someone to love it, that's all," he said, curling around Severus and kissing him lightly.

"Are you comparing me to a run-down old shack?" Severus asked with pretended shock.

"Well, not run-down, no. But I think it's a good thing no one else noticed what I saw in you." Smiling and running a hand through Severus' hair, Harry kissed him lightly and rolled on top of him, his cock already half-hard. "Less competition."

"Not likely," Severus said with a sigh as he reached up to embrace Harry, preparing himself for round two. "There was hardly a line ready to beat down the—"

"Severus!" a voice called from the sitting room Floo, and Harry made an undignified shout before falling off the bed.

"What the hell—" Harry said from the floor, but Severus had already Summoned his robes, hastily buttoning only the most necessary buttons as he ran to respond to the call.

He knew that voice, and it wasn't one that was easily made distraught.

"Minerva," he acknowledged as he sunk to his knees in front of the Floo. "What's happened?"

"Oh, thank Merlin you hadn't left yet. I thought it was hopeless, but—"

"Minerva?" Harry asked, and Severus turned just in time to see him button his trousers, shirt forgotten.

"Severus, you have to come quickly," she said, not missing a beat at the sight of two half-dressed men. "Lucius Malfoy is here."

Severus' heart began to pound loudly in his chest and a chill ran down his spine as images flashed before his eyes at the statement. One fact rang out to him in an instant: he wasn't supposed to be here. His and Harry's marriage ceremony, while private, had been announced publicly. Whatever siege Lucius had planned, he'd done so strategically, knowing Severus wouldn't be there to protect the students this time.

A second passed and he pulled himself back to the present. "I'm on my way," he said, then, "_Accio_ boots!"

They dressed as quickly as they could, Harry stumbling as he toed into his shoes, refusing to allow Severus to fight this battle alone. The thought warmed him as he hastily redressed in his wedding robes, thankful he had chosen a cut and color that were just as distinguished and reserved as his usual robes. He wasn't prepared to give an inch, and he'd need every ounce of his wits to face Lucius.

Severus didn't allow Harry the time it took to straighten his tie; he simply grabbed his hand, tossed in the Floo powder, and traveled straight to his office in the dungeons.

The door was open and he could hear dozens of voices, the high-pitched worried exclamations of students as well as lower voices that he recognized far too easily, coming from the hallway. He quickly ran the half-dozen steps from his fireplace to the door, then slowed once he saw the spectacle in the hallway.

"Severus!" Minerva cried out and came to meet him, though Severus didn't spare her a glance.

Every Slytherin student, from the most nervous first year to the outwardly calm seventh years, were standing in a line starting from the Common Room and ending just short of Severus' office. As soon as they saw him they went quiet, all eyes turning to him, the little ones with fear and the older ones with caution.

"What's happening?" Harry asked the students, and Severus watched as their eyes drifted to something behind him. The sound of heavy footsteps echoed in the quiet of the hallway, then the bastard revealed himself.

Severus forced himself not to sneer as Lucius looked down his nose at Harry. "What's happening, Mr.— Is it still Potter or did you decide to hyphenate?" Lucius asked with a snide smile, then waved a hand through the air as if to say it hardly mattered. "After six and a half years, the Board of Governors has finally come to its senses."

Severus said nothing to this, but bit the inside of his cheek, forcing himself not to say a word until Lucius revealed the situation. And he would, Severus knew. Draco's narcissism might be harmless, but he'd inherited it from somewhere.

Every eye concentrated on him, but Lucius still paused a moment, looking around and taking in his supposed victory, rolled parchment in hand. "Effective immediately, it is the decision of the Board of Governors that no Slytherin student may study Defense Against the Dark Arts or Potions at Hogwarts after their third year."

"What?" Harry gasped, and though Severus wasn't touching him, he swore he could feel Harry's body tense and fall into a fighting position behind him, and recalled their lessons from years ago. Though the fight was a different one, it felt familiar to have Harry by his side.

"May I see that?" Severus asked softly, realizing that losing his temper in front of the students and the posturing peacock would only bring more harm to the situation. With a twirl of his wrist, Lucius smiled politely and passed the document, which bore the seal of the Board of Governors. As Severus began to read it, he vaguely heard Minerva shouting.

"This is unconscionable! How could you possibly do this to your own house, to _children_, Malfoy? I won't stand for it, and you can be certain I will not adhere to it!"

"It is the Board's right to decide the rules that govern Hogwarts, Headmistress," Lucius said, his voice calm, as though he were complimenting the tartan robes she'd chosen for their wedding, "You will adhere to them, or the Board will replace you with someone who will."

Minerva looked on Lucius with disgust, her upturned lip and dark glare revealing her anger and loathing far better than a thousand words ever could.

"Severus?" Harry whispered, leaning closer to him and looking over his shoulder. Severus scanned the rest of the document, the pages wrinkling and tearing as he clenched them in his fists.

It only confirmed what Lucius had said. He'd failed to dissolve Slytherin six years ago, but it seemed Lucius had decided there were worse indignities than total destruction. This document sealed the fate of every Slytherin student, present and incoming, and Severus fumed with a futile rage.

There was nothing to be done, he realized. Somehow, Lucius had managed to convince the Board that his students had no need to learn Potions or Defense past their third year, that anything else would be unnecessary and a risk to the Wizarding world in general. He'd called a meeting at the best possible time: while the rest of Hogwarts was distracted with a wedding.

No... He'd made sure that _Severus_ was distracted. Lucius had rendered him completely ineffective, taking him out of the game so he could call all the shots as he'd seen fit.

And he'd succeeded.

Severus looked up from the document, his eyes on the silent, worried students lining the hallway, all looking to him for direction. He felt a gentle hand touch the small of his back, and forced himself to calm, realizing that his students needed him to keep his senses about him, that a show of rage—while momentarily satisfying—would aid no one.

"Severus?" Harry repeated, his voice no more than a whisper that was meant for only Severus to hear. In a flash of motion, Severus dropped the document, and—stepping on it as he walked—made his way to Lucius.

"Why are my students lined up in a hallway when they should be preparing for tomorrow's classes?" he asked, his tone like steel and his voice deadly.

Lucius turned from Severus and addressed the students. "Contrary to what Professor Snape would like you to believe, the Board of Governors only had your best interests in mind when making this decision. I've called you all out of your former Common Room to give you the option of being resorted. We once discussed the option, but your Head of House and Headmistress wouldn't hear of it. They've become too...isolated here at Hogwarts to understand what's happening in Britain today. You need not suffer the indignities that follow Slytherin. The Board is generously giving you the option of being resorted into a different House."

One of the Slytherins broke away from the group, Kinsey—whom Severus often thought might have easily been sorted into Gryffindor—and addressed Lucius in barely disguised anger.

"I studied like hell to make my OWLs in Potions and Defense. I want to take my NEWTs, I want to be an Auror! I've worked hard, and you have no right to tell me what I can and can't do!"

Lucius made a slight bow of his head, and turned to Severus with a smirk. "You're right, young man. The Ministry is in charge of testing. The Board cannot interfere with your NEWTs. However..." His smirk faded as his eyes turned to slits and roamed over the whole of the students assembled. "You would do well to remember that Hogwarts provides the potions ingredients and defense equipment with which you learn, as well as instruction. The Board has no say over which students may take tests given by the Ministry...but I wish you luck in revising completely on your own."

"You can't do this!" Harry said, removing himself from Severus' side. "All the best careers require a NEWT in Potions and Defense. Without an education you're dooming every Slytherin to be a second-class citizen."

"Every _Slytherin_, yes," Lucius purred, then turned to the students again. "But that can easily be fixed...now." He turned and waved towards the staircase, and Severus noticed that all the other professors and some of the older students had congregated. "Your professors are conveniently in one place. We need not carry this on longer than necessary."

Severus opened his mouth, an angry tirade about the strength and spirit of Slytherin, of a thousand years of tradition, on the tip of his tongue, but stopped himself.

A cold, paralyzing sense of hopelessness poured over him as he realized the inevitable. There would be no undoing the Board's decree. A part of him realized that Lucius must have been planning this for a long time, and he marveled that it had taken this long. He could say something now, something that would probably convince a good deal of the Slytherins to stubbornly remain in his house, if only out of loyalty, spite, and pure force of will.

But he would be damning them to a life of limited options, possibly to financial dire straits, and most probably to the Muggle world, where they would be even more unprepared and ill-educated. The thing he had feared the most was coming true: a generation of children was being destroyed in front of his eyes, and there wasn't a thing he could do to stop it.

He turned to them now, all of their eyes on him, not Lucius. He looked to Kinsey, his eyes focused on Severus, silently begging him for some relief, some hidden plan Severus had up his sleeve that would trump all of this.

Slowly, Severus shook his head, and watched as a hundred pairs of eyes fell to the floor in defeat. He forced himself not to turn away as the oldest of the students looked among themselves and began to separate from the line.

"Wait!" Harry said, coming to stand in front of Lucius and Severus, addressing the students directly. "You don't have to do this." He turned to Severus, a hopeful, apologetic look in his eyes, then said, "Professor Snape and I can teach you on our own time."

"Professor Potter..." Lucius began, his tone sounding far too pleased for Severus' liking, "perhaps you didn't understand what I said the first time. No matter, I can repeat myself—"

"I said on our own time," Harry repeated himself, refusing to look at Lucius. "We can teach you at our own home just as well as we could teach you at Hogwarts."

A light suddenly went on in Severus' head as he realized what Harry meant to do, even as a weight settled on his shoulders at what it meant. "Harry..." he whispered, calling him back.

Harry leaned close to him and said, "We can do this. There's a potions lab in the basement, and our sitting room can double as a practice room for Defense..."

Images of late nights and empty pockets flashed before Severus' eyes, and though he loved Harry for proposing the idea, he knew this was another instance of Harry jumping in without thought to the consequences. He would not allow Harry to offer something so large, to make such a great commitment without understanding what it meant. "And what of supplies?" he asked quietly, willing Harry to understand the enormity of the situation. "Are you forgetting the amount of potions ingredients the average Hogwarts student goes through every year?"

Harry bit his lip, and looked to the students, hesitating for a moment before looking back to Severus. "The Potter fortune—"

In an instant, Severus had his wand out, casting a Silencing Spell around them as he pulled Harry aside. "No, absolutely not."

"It's for a good cause!"

"Fortunes are meant to be built upon, Harry, not drained. Or did you decide against children after all?"

Harry frowned and looked hurt for a moment before Severus explained himself. "What will you leave them, Harry? My mother's family spent a vast fortune in the course of two generations. There is no Prince vault full of riches if all this falls apart. There's nothing but two professors' salaries. We have to be practical."

"They're your students..."

Clenching his fists, Severus forced himself not to shout at Harry, to not make an even larger scene as he felt Lucius' stare on them, as every eye in the room took in their discussion.

"How dare you..." he hissed, willing to unleash his anger onto Harry in a fit of rage. "These are _my_ students, but you are my husband and this is _my_ life. _Our_ life."

Casting a quick glance to their audience, Harry met Severus' eyes and put gentle hands on his shoulders. The effect was immediate, Harry's kind nature shining through at the exact moment it was needed.

They were his students, Severus thought as he caught his breath, as he forced himself to calm. Turning from Harry, he looked and confirmed what he'd already known—that every Slytherin had their eyes trained on the two of them, waiting to hear the outcome of their fate. These children had been entrusted to his care, whether he'd wanted it or not. They had done nothing wrong, and they'd done nothing to provoke such an action against them.

He sighed and his shoulders slumped as he accepted what he needed to do. "If we do this," he said, turning back to Harry, "we're doing it on our salaries...whether or not anyone else is willing to give aid."

Harry nodded. "There's nothing wrong in asking for help."

Another sigh, this one with the realization that his life was about to change again, twice in one day and this time not for the better. He canceled the Silencing Spell and turned to address his students.

Straightening his back, he lifted his chin and said in a voice not nearly as confident as he felt, "Any Slytherin student who wishes to learn Potions or Defense will be welcome in our home to do so."

"Professor Snape..." Lucius started, his lips twisted in a sneer as he gestured to the fallen document, "if you would remove your foot—"

"Professor Snape and Professor Potter may do whatever they like in their free time," Minerva said, stepping in between Lucius and Severus, seeming to loom over them even with her shorter stature. "And seeing as the students will be having quite a bit of _free time_ on their hands, I see no problem in their having a few...extracurricular activities."

Lucius glared and turned to look at the Slytherins, the older ones standing stiffly in front of the younger ones in solidarity. Studying them, seeing _through_ them to past generations, Severus was never prouder of his house than in that moment. Slytherin wouldn't die; not while he was its Head.

"If they set one foot inside Hogwarts' grounds during these _extracurricular activities_," Lucius said with a sneer, "if one potions ingredient is used, one practicing dummy, an ounce of Floo powder..."

Minerva stepped impossibly closer, and though she strained her neck to look up at him, Lucius was the one who looked cowed. "I assure you, Mr. Malfoy, I know how to run my school."

Scoffing, Lucius turned to go, but stopped in front of Severus.

"You've always had an affinity for lost causes, Severus, but this... Why are you wasting your time?"

"And what lost cause would that be, Malfoy?" Harry asked, stepping into the space between them. "Severus isn't the one betraying his house. You're pathetic."

Lucius' hand went to his cane, but Severus drew first. There was complete silence in the room as Severus' wand dug into Lucius' throat. Anger welled up within him, a curse poised on his lips, and it was only the knowledge that he was being watched that stopped him. "Don't bother trying to appeal to his sense of decency, Harry," he said, never taking his eyes off Lucius. "You're speaking to a man who tried to kill his own son."

Straightening his shoulders and feigning nonchalance, Lucius stepped away from Severus' wand and said, "I have no son. And you would do well, Severus, to remember of what I am capable. Before, you were simply an annoyance, but you have made an enemy tonight."

Severus opened his mouth to retort, but Harry's hand was quicker, bringing his wand to Lucius' temple in one swift movement.

"Threaten my husband again," he hissed, green eyes on fire. "Do it, you bastard. I _want_ you to do it."

"Professor Potter," Minerva warned quietly from somewhere behind them. "The students are watching. Please refrain from murdering Mr. Malfoy on school grounds."

Slowly, Harry lowered his wand, his eyes still riveted on Lucius. Severus' wand was still in hand, hidden in his sleeve, but aimed at Lucius' heart.

"As you wish," Lucius said, brushing invisible dust from his robes. "If you choose to waste a small fortune on these...children, then who am I to stop you." He turned to go, the horde of professors and students parting for him with silent glares.

"You were married today, weren't you?" Lucius asked, turning, but clearly not expecting an answer. With a false bow, he said, "Congratulations. I hope you have a splendid time on your honeymoon."

Severus kept his face impassive, silently impressed when Harry did the same at Lucius' parting words. The click of his heels faded as he ascended the staircase, and Harry and Severus tracked his progress until he was out of sight. As soon as they were sure he'd left the dungeons, Harry shoulders slumped and he turned to Severus, not caring that anyone was watching, and let his head fall to his chest.

"Guess it was a good thing we missed that Portkey, wasn't it?"

Severus wrapped his arms around Harry automatically, and forced himself not to think of the tremendous responsibility they'd just accepted, how the ceiling once again seemed to be caving in on him.

"Severus, Harry," Minerva said, drawing them both out of their distress with a soft tone. "You've done an incredible thing. Any help I can give you, I will."

A throat was cleared from the direction of the staircase and Pomona Sprout stepped forward. "I can take any detentions you give," she said from her step, coming down to stand in front of them. "The greenhouses are always in desperate need of weeding, and I'm not as young as I used to be."

Severus nodded and Harry thanked her, and there was silence for a moment before another voice was heard. "I may not remember much," Filius said, coming down to stand with the rest of them, "but I believe I can help mark the first and second years' Potions homework."

"I can take some of your Defense homework, Harry," Minerva said, then gestured to the staircase. "And I'm sure there are a few upper years who wouldn't mind marking the ones in between. Especially those who intend to go on to university."

"Severus, Harry," a soft voice said from within the crowd on the stairs, people parting so Remus Lupin could be seen. A straggler from the wedding party, Severus thought, even as he fought a sneer. "I'd be happy to volunteer to teach Defense a few nights a week...if Slytherin will have me."

Harry's eyes lit up, but he deferred to Severus as Head of House, not saying anything as he thought it over. As much as he might still loathe Lupin, he was Harry's friend, and they would need all the help they could get.

"Do try not to let fleas into our home, won't you, Lupin?" he said, not a bit surprised when Lupin smiled and gave them a nod.

From behind them, Minerva muttered something under her breath, then sighed. Turning to them with true affection in her eyes, she said, "You won't have to do this all alone, that I promise you." She sighed and asked quietly, "Isn't there any way you could still leave? I know how badly you've wanted this trip, Severus."

The weight he was trying so hard to keep at bay threatened to crush him as Severus shook his head silently. It was only the strong hand on his back that kept him grounded, allowed him to nod to everyone who'd offered their help.

A sympathetic hand touched his arm. "Well, then," Minerva said, straightening herself and regaining her professor's voice. "It's getting late, everyone," she said to the students. "I think it's best if you all went back to your Common Room."

The students seemed to shuffle their feet, the youngest ones looking towards the older ones whose feet hadn't moved. Minerva was about to open her mouth to repeat the request when one of the Slytherin prefects came up to Severus and Harry.

Her eyes looked glassy, and Severus felt a small amount of pride at her ability to hold back her tears. She opened her mouth, then hesitated for a moment before finally grasping her hands together as she said, "Thank you, Professors." Both Harry and Severus hardly seemed to know how to respond, and settled for a nod before she turned and left.

Another student, this year's Head Boy, walked up and shook both their hands, his eyes shining with unspoken emotion. "Thank you, Professors."

They remained silent, but accepted the thanks, Severus unable to do anything else. One by one every student came up to them, looked them in the eye and thanked them. Severus just stood there, nodding to each one, hardly able to move and too moved to speak.

"Thank you, Professors," said the last student, a tiny first year who looked as though he'd missed his first three growth spurts, before the hallway was empty, save for Severus and Harry.

The weight of it all was threatening to crush Severus, and the display of gratitude was nearly too much for him to bear. He had no idea what to say in the face of what had just happened, so he let Harry do it for him.

"You're welcome," Harry said to the empty hall.

* * *

Severus sat in his chair quietly, while Harry bustled about the room looking for something to do. He sympathized, or he would have, if it didn't feel as though the world was falling down around his head.

Severus knew the truth, though he wouldn't speak it. There was nothing to be done, and their lives had just taken a spectacular turn for the worse. Marrying Harry had been the first real act of hope for Severus since the end of the war. Now...

He wondered how they were supposed to build a marriage, a life, when their days would be spent teaching from sun up to Merlin knew when.

"It'll be all right," Harry said, unpacking their trunks in search of something to do with himself. "We'll stay here for the holidays, christen every room in the house, and get everything ready for the students."

Severus remained quiet, and considered it a tremendous act of love that he didn't hex Harry silent.

"And it looks like we'll only have to mark the Slytherins' homework," he said, coming to kneel at Severus' feet and putting his hands on his knees. "No more grading brainless Gryffindor essays."

He turned away from Harry, and forced himself to remain still and not push away the hands on his knees.

"We'll figure out the schedule," Harry said, pleading. "We'll group more students together so we'll have time in the evenings to teach the Slytherins here. That way we won't have to work so long into the night."

Severus scoffed at Harry's eternal optimism, refusing to see the situation for anything other than what it was: the latest shackle placed around his ankles, an even heavier yoke on his neck.

"Severus..." Harry whispered, "this doesn't have to be something terrible. Yes, it'll be difficult—"

"Be quiet!" Severus shouted, his voice reverberating on the walls of the room. The hands on his knees retracted, and he turned to look at Harry.

"You can't fix everything, Harry," he said, defeated. "This is never going to be something good."

Familiar fingers found his face and tangled in his hair, forcing Severus to look at green eyes. He'd rarely seen Harry look so serious, so solemn, and he wondered if he'd said something to crush an optimism that he knew he couldn't live without.

And in a moment so bleak, it surprised Severus that he still cared so deeply for Harry. That a part of him still wanted Harry to hope enough for the two of them.

"I'm so sorry this happened," Harry said softly, the sadness in his eyes looking so odd on a face that was normally so happy. "I know what a blow this is to you, believe me I do. If there was anything I could do to change it, I would, but I can't." His thumbs traced Severus' cheekbones, and Severus' own hands went up to meet them. "The only thing I can do is face it with you. And I will. You won't be alone in this, I promise. But please...don't let Malfoy win."

It was a clever comment to make, Severus thought, something a Slytherin would say. He allowed himself to be swayed, knowing full well that had been Harry's intention, and welcomed the spark of fight, of spirit that rekindled inside him at Harry's words.

"We'll make this work," Harry said, smiling at the signs of Severus returning to himself. "There's nothing you and I can't do when we do it together."

With deliberate, nearly exhausting effort, Severus smiled and pulled himself from the barren wasteland of hopelessness. He doubted he'd be able to do it alone without succumbing to the desperation and anguish he'd suffered in those years before Harry had returned to Hogwarts, but he took heart from Harry's words. He knew without a doubt he meant them, and would never let Severus down.

Pushing aside the melancholy that threatened to overtake him, Severus kissed Harry gently, saying with lips and tongue what he could never say with words. When he pulled back a moment later, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"Let's hope your luck holds out, Potter," he said, then opened his eyes to Harry's smile.

"Don't bet against me," Harry said with a forced laugh. "God help the bastard that goes against the two of us."

"Indeed," Severus agreed, forcing away thoughts of what the new year would bring.

* * *

Cedric had his arms crossed over his chest as he watched the intimate scene play out, then fade to black. In all the rush to hear Professor Snape's story, he'd nearly forgotten why he'd been called here. At first, he couldn't imagine what could force Professor Snape to consider suicide, but the dark expression on his face was something that couldn't be ignored.

His heart ached for him.

Dumbledore waited to see if Cedric would ask any questions, but was unsurprised when silence prevailed over the three of them, each, in his own way, considering what they'd just witnessed. Cedric had been shocked when he'd learned what had happened to the Slytherins that day, and his heart had broken anew for Severus. He turned to look at Sirius, who was strangely quiet.

Sirius looked at his shoes and put his hands in his pockets. "That's..." he said, then drifted off, shaking his head. "They were just kids," he said softly. "No kid deserves that."

"No," Dumbledore and Cedric said together. Without another word Dumbledore waved a hand over the window again, and directed Cedric to look. He did so, even though he wanted to turn away, wondering what horrible thing would happen next.

* * *

"Those of you who are returning no doubt realize the trials we're about to face," Severus said stoically to a room full of older Slytherins. "We began this mockery of an education in January. For now, it seems as though this arrangement will continue...in perpetuity."

The students lowered their heads collectively at Severus' tone, at the speech he felt required to give at the beginning of this new year. Well, that wouldn't do. Severus might be weary to the core, but that hardly meant he should drag the students down with him. Realizing that now was not the time for anger or might-have-beens, he straightened his back and spoke sharply.

"Now," he said and rapped his knuckles on a nearby side table, "the headmistress and your other professors have worked very hard on your schedules. You will adhere to them to the letter, or you will subject yourself to punishment. There will be no passes, no understanding from the rest of the world because of what has happened here, and there will be none from me or from Professor Potter." He paused for a moment as a few of the students glared a bit, but said nothing.

He ignored them, understanding where their anger was coming from. After all, he'd needed to get it out of his system as well. At least he didn't have to deal with raging hormones.

"Most of your parents have already made arrangements for your supplies, but those who have not must meet with me first thing tomorrow morning. We are prepared to help you, but you must ask for help."

More than a few heads lowered at that, but there was nothing that could be done to help it. Few of the older pure-blood families had declined involvement with the Dark Lord, and all who had—save one, Severus inwardly sneered—were currently rotting away in Azkaban. The blameless children had either been carted off to relatives or made wards of the state.

Had this happened ten years ago, there would have been benefactors and even tutors given to assist these students. Today, there were few willing to cross Lucius Malfoy, and so Severus and Harry had been forced to ask those who could pay for their own ingredients to do so.

The number of those who couldn't was far greater, and so Severus had accepted this with regret. If Albus had been there to witness students singled out simply because...

He took a deep breath and tried to make this easier. "This should not have happened to you," he said, his voice becoming uncharacteristically soft. "It is an atrocity that you should have to learn the lesson that life is not fair at such a young age, but there's nothing to be done." He massaged his temples, trying to will something inspirational to come.

"This is going to be very hard, and I will not make it easier for you," he said, looking over each of the students' faces in turn. "But you will appreciate your education that much more, you will work that much harder, and you will learn at a very tender age that though people attempt to destroy you, the only way to retaliate is to be that much better.

"I expect every single one of you to pass your Defense and Potions OWLs. Every...single...one of you," he said slowly, concentrating mostly on the fifth years, telling them in so many words that this was not an excuse to slack off. "They expect you to fail, they expect you to become the dregs of society, but they know nothing of you.

"You will be smarter than the Ravenclaws, more stubborn than the Gryffindors and more loyal—to each other—than the Hufflepuffs. Anything less is unacceptable."

He looked around and saw smiles on a few faces, and determination in others. Inspirational speech done with, he gave a slight bow of his head, then said, "Sleep well tonight, and be on your best behavior tomorrow. Remember: everyone will be watching you now. Don't give them a reason to think the Board of Governors is correct."

He left to the sound of his students saying goodnight, and quickly made his way back to his office.

With a surge of guilt, he paused by his fireplace, Floo powder in hand. By this time tomorrow his home would be overrun with students, his sanctuary taken from him.

With a futile sigh, Severus tossed in the powder, then stepped gracefully into his and Harry's sitting room.

"Professors Snape-Potter, Professors Potter-Snape, Professors Snape, Professors Potter," Harry listed, going through envelopes that had been delivered that day. "Keeping our names the same was supposed to make it _easier_, right? Am I the only one who thinks this is a bit ridiculous?" he asked, waving the envelopes around.

"No," Severus said with fatigue, "you're not the only one who thinks this is ridiculous." He felt exhausted, and it was barely the first day.

"You gave the Slytherins their pep talk?" Harry asked, putting down the letters from parents and walking over to Severus.

"Mmm," Severus replied, sitting down in his chair. Harry sat on the arm and threw his legs over Severus'.

"Do you need a pep talk of your own?"

"Oh, Merlin, no."

"You, Severus Snape," Harry began, kissing Severus' cheek before reaching out to smooth his hair, "are the man most capable of helping these kids through all this."

"Did you see how many students were sorted into Slytherin this year?" Severus asked, ignoring Harry's attempt to cheer him. "The number of children varies from year to year, but I don't think I've seen so few before."

"Well..." Harry started, hesitantly, and Severus mentally dared him to somehow make something positive of that. "The Hat _does_ take in the students' wishes...to a certain extent."

"So it's been said," Severus sighed, rubbing his temples again.

"And those that were sorted into your house are going to be that much stronger because of all this. You know that."

"Mmm."

"And we already fixed all the bumps last term, so most of the kids already know how this works and what we expect of them."

"True."

"And you're brilliant, Severus. Those kids are going to grow up and become...well, whatever they want to be because of you."

"While I've grown up to be an absolute failure," Severus said, surprised that he'd expressed his thoughts out loud.

Harry sighed and touched their foreheads together. Severus rarely allowed himself to become so maudlin, but found he couldn't help it just now. The summer had ended only yesterday for them, and it had hardly been what he'd wanted.

Gone were the plans for visiting every place Severus had ever wanted to see. They'd visited France once and London a few times, but mostly they'd kept to their little shack of a house in Hogsmeade, so close to the prison that bound them.

Bound Severus.

"You're not a failure. I wouldn't have married a failure. I do have some taste, you know?"

"You take your marmalade sandwiches with bananas, and dip your chips in ice cream. I believe your taste is somewhat questionable."

"Bastard," Harry said playfully, so eager to draw Severus out of his funk. "If you'd try it you'd like it."

"That seems very unlikely."

"So did this," Harry said, his voice low as he bent his head to kiss Severus properly, "but it's worked out so far."

"Yes," Severus said, relinquishing some of the gloom that hung over his head. "At least there's this."

His statement seemed to have the opposite effect on Harry, who sighed again before giving a weak smile.

"It'll be all right—" Harry said, but was cut off by a knock on the door. "Damn, it's late. I wonder who that could be," he said, removing himself from Severus and going to open the door.

"Kingsley!" Severus heard a moment later, then grumbled to himself as he got to his feet to meet their uninvited guest. His shoulder began to ache in sympathy.

"Hello, Severus," Kingsley said, walking in and shaking his hand. Must the man always use so crushing a grasp? "I'm sorry to call on you so late in the evening, and on a school night—"

"Oh, that's all right," Harry said cheerfully, "we were just sitting for a minute. What brings you around?"

With a slow smile, Kingsley drew a small bag from his pocket and offered it to Severus, who merely gave it a curious look.

"The Order's taken a collection for the Slytherins," he said with a large grin. "I doubt it will cover everything, but it should take a nice bite out of your expenses for the children."

"Oh," Harry said softly, while Severus wanted to sink through the floorboards. "They didn't— This was hardly necessary, but thank you. This is going to help—"

"We can't accept it," Severus said, pulling back Harry's hand as he went to reach for the bag. "Give the Order our thanks, but we aren't quite destitute yet."

Harry's silence resounded loudly and Severus could feel the force of his glare drilling into him, even as Kingsley seemed to have expected this.

"This isn't for you, Severus. No one expects you to take this money and go on holiday. This is for the students who aren't able to afford ingredients or a decent cauldron—"

"This is a matter between Slytherins."

Kingsley lifted his chin and looked down on Severus, clearly not wanting to give up without a fight. "Don't be so stubborn. It's not you who's asking for help, it's the children."

Severus remained quiet, wanting to resist the Order's generosity for a moment longer, if only to salvage his wounded pride. Though he knew it made perfect sense that good people would want to come to the aid of those who needed it, Severus continued his silent protest, even as his good sense told him to accept the offering eagerly.

"Severus, don't do this," Kingsley pleaded, even as Harry pinched Severus' arm. "The two of you shouldn't carry the full burden of Lucius Malfoy's crusade. And this," he gestured to the bag in his hand, "this is just a little help. It's all right to accept _some_ help."

He knew he should accept the gift, but Severus held out a moment longer. The idea that people had all gathered together to _discuss_ them, and offer to help them like they were in need of charity was just too humiliating to bear. His servitude at Hogwarts had taken many things from him: his freedom, his time, creative opportunities that he would never be able to get back. But he'd be damned if he'd lose his pride.

"How many Galleons of your own did you have to spend last term, Severus? Were you able to put any away or did it all go to potions ingredients and Floo powder?" Kingsley asked, his temper getting the best of him as well. "Are you going to allow your pride to hurt the students you're trying to protect? Are you going to force Harry to suffer when he doesn't have to?"

Bringing Harry into the equation was a low blow, but Severus thought it possible Kingsley knew the reasons for his stubborn refusal. Claiming defense of Harry gave him an out, a way to accept the gift without completely losing his dignity.

Harry must have sensed his acquiescence because he gave his arm a light squeeze, then stepped up to speak. "We both know how much the Order cares for the students...and we're both grateful."

"Yes," Kingsley said carefully, handing over the bag to Harry, "I'm sure you are." An awkward silence lingered between them, and Severus remained quiet as he set aside the humiliation to deal with it later.

Kingsley laid a hand on his shoulder, and it was only the extreme concentration it took to hold his head high that enabled him not to shrug it off. Forcing himself to meet his eyes, Severus clenched his fists and said nothing, allowing Kingsley to speak first.

"You've already done so much for them, Severus..." he drifted off, and looked to Harry for help. When Harry said nothing, he sighed, then said, "Let's please not go through this next term. It would be very irritating if I had to have this fight year after year." He released Severus' shoulder, nodding to Harry and letting himself out.

Unsure as to which one of them was more humiliated, Severus turned his back on Harry and left the room, unwilling to hear the complaints he no doubt had coming his way, but also not wanting to alienate Harry any further. The back of their house had a small garden that was a perfect place to pace furiously, and Severus did just that, so distracted by his anger he didn't hear the door open and close a few minutes later.

"So..." Harry said, staying out of arm's reach, "if you've decided to stop being an arse, I think I have an idea for that little room we've been using as an office."

Severus sighed, and did not stop his pacing. The situation had grown too much to bear, and he had no idea what he could do about it.

"I've been thinking... A mind like yours is a terrible thing to waste. Or underuse. And just because a bit of our time has been eaten up doesn't mean you can't still do your research."

The word stopped Severus in his tracks. He hadn't thought of the word 'research' in years, unless it dealt with students' essays.

Bravely, Harry began to approach him, saying, "I know your little ferret friend and his professor are already researching the cure to lycanthropy, but that doesn't mean you can't keep up your own work." A hand landed on his arm, and Severus felt the weight of it burn into him. "You might not have a lot of time, but I think it's something you should invest in. Something worthwhile."

Just the thought of using his mind for something other than marking essays and teaching lessons he'd learned thirty years ago was enough to make his heart ache. It was like opening a raw wound, and Severus hated Harry for dangling the impossible in front of him in this way.

"And when exactly am I supposed to do this research?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous, a voice Harry hadn't heard directed at him for years.

Harry paused before he answered. "For five days a week we have to teach students until at least seven in the evening. Who says you can't research an hour a night and maybe a few more on the weekends?" he asked, as though the idea he was proposing wasn't completely preposterous. "You can do it, Severus, you just have to...not give up on yourself."

"Damn you," he hissed, turning to Harry now and looming over him, angry at him as he hadn't been in a long time. "Do you have any idea what this has done to me? Do you not think I _long_ to be doing something else, to have time for anything else every single day?"

"I'm trying to help!" Harry shouted. "I'm trying to find some way you can still do what you want to do, even with all this—"

"There's nothing that can be done! Not while—" Severus shouted and gestured to the castle off in the distance, "_that_ imprisons us, steals from us—"

"It's stealing from you because you're letting it! You have to try, Severus! I can teach these kids indefinitely, I can help you with...whatever it is you need help with." He paused, panting in the dark, then said, "I can fight Lucius Malfoy all day long for as many years as it takes. But I can't fight you."

The angry retort that had been poised on the tip of his tongue died as Harry's words laid into him, ripping something from him and leaving him torn open.

"Don't you think I'm frustrated, too?" Harry asked, pleading now. "Don't you think I'm tired of this, and we've only just begun? I know it's harder on you than it is on me," he said, finding Severus' hands and bringing them close. "But you have to _want_ my help. I love you so much, and if you'd only accept it—"

Not wanting Harry to feel this way for another moment, Severus took him in his arms and embraced him, closing the distance between them in body and soul. Harry eagerly accepted the kiss, wrapping his arms around Severus desperately and holding on for dear life.

"I'm sorry," Severus said, pulling away a moment later, then kissing Harry's beloved face. "I'm sorry."

"It's all right," Harry said, running his fingers through Severus' hair. "It's just...I can't fight both of you. I'm strong, but I'm not that strong."

And Harry was right. This wasn't only happening to Severus, and as he reflected on his behavior, both today and the past term, Severus was ashamed of himself. He'd put far too much pressure on Harry, and had forgotten that this wasn't only happening to him.

"Potter, you're an oak," he said, kissing Harry again. "I _am_ sorry. You've been wonderful..."

"I have been, haven't I?"

"Yes. I will attempt to...behave in a manner that won't bring shame to either of us."

"Just," Harry started, then bit his lip and looked down. "I know you're going to have bad times, and that's all right. I don't want you to pretend you're happy when you're not. I just...don't want you actively working against me. Okay?" At Severus' nod, he continued, "I don't mind holding you up when you're too tired to go on."

Closing his eyes, Severus held Harry tight and thanked whichever gods were listening. "You do noble quite well."

Harry laughed. "Like you and endurance." He sighed and pulled away, grabbing hold of Severus' hand. "Come on. It's our last night without any kids running around."

"That's what you said last night when you begged for sex."

"Oh, come on. I never have to beg," Harry said with a scoff. "What about you with your 'please, Harry, I'll hex you if you don't go any faster'?"

"Threats of violence do it for you, Potter?" Severus asked as they walked to their bedroom. "That would be something...different."

Harry smiled and kissed him before stepping out of his shoes. "As long as it's with you."

* * *

"You know," Sirius started, even as Cedric and Dumbledore gave a long sigh, "this really isn't as bad as he's making it. I mean, yeah it's a hard job that got harder. So what? He had Harry doing everything he could possibly do to make it better for him. How the hell anyone could complain when they have Harry is beyond me."

"Why do you hate him so much?" Cedric asked, curious. He imagined Sirius and Professor Snape had been in school together, but what could have happened to cause such malice?

"How can you not? I mean, look at him! Just existing is all it really takes."

Cedric ignored him and asked, "So what happened next? Did Professor Snape figure out a way to help the Slytherins? Tell me Lucius Malfoy had some sort of accident involving a large hole in the ground."

Dumbledore chuckled and shook his head. "Unfortunately not. No, the next three years were mostly uneventful. Severus adapted to his new life and built his marriage with Harry. Harry, as promised, turned their house into a sanctuary, not only for the two of them but for the students in their charge."

"And Malfoy?" Cedric asked, eager to hear that _something_ had happened to the person who'd caused so many people such misery. "What about him?"

Dumbledore sighed and even Sirius looked irritated. "Lucius Malfoy expanded his personal fortune and acquired several...important businesses." He waved towards the window and a picture of Draco and Severus filled the screen. "He also acquired a new wife, a very young lady, and began a new family."

Shaking his head at the picture of the forgotten son, Cedric bit his lip to keep certain colorful comments to himself.

* * *

"I hear congratulations are in order," Severus said while looking over his menu. He kept his eyes on the list of starters as he saw Draco peer at him out of the corner of his eye. "According to Harry, Astoria has been seen in somewhat larger dresses recently."

Finally, he glanced up and saw Draco grinning.

"She's due in four months. You'll have another Malfoy to teach in about twelve years."

"Perish the thought," Severus deadpanned, then gave a nod. "Still, this is excellent news. My best to mother and child."

"Thank you, Severus."

"Harry sends his best wishes as well," Severus said, once again returning to the menu.

"I don't suppose those wishes came with a hex?"

Sighing, Severus let his menu fall to the table. "I don't suppose one of you could put an end to this ridiculousness? For the sake of my sanity, if nothing else."

"I don't think either of us really mean it," Draco said honestly. "I think we've just been swiping at each other for so long we have no idea how to do anything different."

"You could try acting like adults."

With a scoff, Draco said, "Overrated. Besides, you know I don't _really_ hate him. I'm fairly sure he doesn't actually hate me."

"I wouldn't be too sure of that," Severus said in jest, his eyebrow making a leap for his hairline. Draco laughed darkly and took a sip of his water, then unfolded that day's issue of the _Prophet_.

"What?" he asked at Severus' ever-climbing eyebrow. "Morning sickness. Didn't get to look at it today."

"Sensationalism that masquerades as journalism," Severus said with a sniff. He rarely read the _Prophet_ these days, not when he had a far more reliable supply of information. For Potions, he had the journals which Harry had forced him to subscribe to. And although at the time he'd sworn Harry had done it simply to pour salt on his wounds, it did help Severus with his research and kept him connected with his contemporaries.

There were far too many Aurors who passed through his home these days, which was how he kept up with politics. While he might not give a damn about the latest Wizengamot ruling, he admitted he loathed ignorance, and so those visits were tolerated with a lower level of disgust.

Society news came in the form of Remus Lupin or Weasley and Granger—or Weasley and Weasley, he amended. Though he'd initially tried to keep a comfortable distance between them and himself in their visits, Severus was forced to admit they were tolerable when they weren't being idiots.

And as for sports... Well, Harry might not be a professional Quidditch player, but his enthusiasm for the sport had hardly waned. He lifted his eyes from his menu to ask about Draco's research, but stopped himself at the blank look upon his face.

"Draco?"

Draco continued staring at the back page of the _Prophet_ for a moment before he pulled himself from wherever he'd gone.

"Oh. Um— Sorry," he said, then turned the paper back to the front page. "Birth announcement. Apparently I have a half-brother."

Frowning, Severus took the paper to see the news for himself, and saw it right under the fold, clearly printed in black and white. There was a picture of Lucius and a young lady, perhaps even younger than Harry, with an infant in her arms.

Severus had heard about this as well, so the news was hardly shocking. What was shocking, however, was the headline.

"_Lucius and Ingrid Malfoy Welcome the Birth of First-Born Son_"

"Apparently you'll have two new Malfoys in twelve years," Draco said, his tone dark and snide.

"First-born?" Severus repeated, confused and slightly enraged on Draco's behalf. "I can understand Lucius' desire to deny reality, but, as printing errors go, this is rather large."

"It's not an error, Severus—" Draco said, then cut off as a server came over to take their order. They made their selections, awkwardness growing between them, before they were alone again.

"It hardly matters if he's disowned you," Severus insisted. "The headline could have simply read 'birth of their son' and left it at that."

"Yeah, it could've...except Lucius owns the paper."

A cold wind blew through Severus' hair and went straight down his spine. He might not follow the news religiously, but he knew he would remember if he'd heard of such devastating events.

The idea of Lucius controlling the main source of printed news in their world...

"I know. That's exactly how I felt," Draco said as he fingered his water glass.

"How—" Severus started, not exactly sure how to begin.

"Do I know?" Draco filled in for him. "There are a few old family friends who...disapprove of what Lucius did to me. They keep me in the loop when they can." At Severus' continued floundering, Draco continued, "He did it quietly. Didn't want anyone to think he was trying to take over the major print media in Wizarding Britain, which is exactly what he's done." He opened the back page once again, ignoring his smiling new step-mother and a proud Lucius, and pointed to the bottom of the page.

The print was so fine Severus had to adjust his eyes to read it.

"'The Daily Prophet is owned by Morning Star Publications.' That's one of Lucius' companies." Draco considered Severus for a moment, before he said, "How do you not know this? Even if you don't read it daily, I would have thought you'd heard about..."

"What?" Severus asked, curious now.

"Well, the little things. Haven't you noticed..." He drifted off, and opened the paper to a random page and began skimming the articles. Their salads were delivered, and Draco turned the pages furiously, not willing to stop until he'd found what he was looking for.

"Here," he said, pointing. "'The Wizengamot sentenced Sheppard to two years in Azkaban for his crimes. After learning of Sheppard's placement in Slytherin House, this reporter couldn't agree enough and applauds the Wizengamot in this decision.'"

Rage flooded Severus' senses even at the same time as fear threatened to overwhelm him. "He's attempting to change public opinion."

Draco nodded. "And gradually, in the most nefarious way." He chucked the paper to an empty chair, and said, "And he'll succeed, too. You know he will. The public is easily swayed, especially when there's no one else telling them what to think."

A part of Severus—most likely the part that was affected by Harry—wanted to say that people were smarter than that, but he knew that wasn't true.

"A few years of this..." Draco said, then took a bite of his food. "I shudder to think of the state of Slytherin House in a decade."

"Mmm," Severus said, still considering what he'd just learned. While his house had seen its numbers dwindle somewhat, the number of students was still only slightly lower than what it had always been. And the students were thriving and continued to do well in their classes, and testing, much to Lucius' dismay, he was sure.

"We'll endure, I imagine," Severus said some minutes later. "It's been three years, and no one's collapsed from exhaustion yet." The fact that it was mostly Harry who kept him from despair remained unsaid, but Severus thought Draco knew him well enough to hear it regardless.

"Absolutely," Draco said, then smiled. "You mind if we change the subject? It's Saturday and I think the conversation's growing a bit maudlin, even for you."

"By all means," Severus said, chasing a cherry tomato around his plate.

"So...any word on the pitter patter of little Potters?" Draco asked, smiling at his alliteration. "Fill out the adoption forms yet?"

Severus experienced a chill of apprehension at the question, but feigned nonchalance as he answered. "The paperwork's been filled out, but it should be months before we hear anything."

"You're not looking forward to it?" Draco asked, no doubt picking up on Severus' reluctance.

There was never a more loaded question, Severus thought as he chewed on a cucumber to gain a moment of reflection. Though he'd had numerous conversations about family with Harry, the idea of being a parent still filled him with a sense of dread. The side of him that retained hope, the side that was no doubt influenced by Harry, _was_ looking forward to a family of his own. The idea of raising a child with Harry, of teaching him and watching him grow and become his own person, was one that filled him with a sense of hope and anticipation.

But that sentiment was evading him at the moment. Instead he was filled with a mixture of fear and barely-restrained resentment.

What did he know about raising a child? The only children he encountered were the ones he taught on a daily basis, and he had a hard enough time dealing with them as it was. He knew nothing of infants or how to discipline a five-year-old. And while Harry had the patience of a saint, Severus often worried he'd grow frustrated with any child of his own and scar the poor thing for life.

And then there was something he tried not to think about, and hated admitting to himself. When would he and Harry have time for each other if they had a family? Between teaching students, his research and all his responsibilities as a Head of House, Severus felt like he never saw Harry as much as he wanted to. Add a child to the mix and where would that put him?

He hated himself for even thinking such a thing, but he had no desire to begin self-denial now.

And he couldn't even bring himself to consider the financial obligation.

He cleared his throat and took a sip of water, but by the time he was poised to give Draco a positive answer, it had become unnecessary.

"I know what you mean," Draco said softly. "Fatherhood... Sometimes I can't even fathom it. All that responsibility..."

"The possibility of completely ruining a child..." Severus said, pleased he wasn't the only one.

"What if you make some huge mistake? Or drop them? Babies are small!"

Severus smirked, and waved his hand. "I'm sure you'll be a wonderful father. I, on the other hand—"

"Oh, shut it. You'd be a great dad. I can already see you explaining advanced potions theory to a very confused six-year-old."

"Hmph."

"Really," Draco said, insisting. Though his fears were still present, the sentiment cheered Severus enough to push on to another topic.

"So what news of your research?" Severus asked, eager to press on to something he was more than capable of conversing about without breaking into a cold sweat.

They talked about Draco's successes in regards to his work on lycanthropy through their meal, Severus asking pertinent questions and enjoying the intelligent conversation. When Draco confessed to a roadblock in his research, one that he and his colleagues had been trying to circumvent for months, Severus thought it might be time to share some of his own findings.

He explained that while he had chosen a different avenue to counteract the problem Draco was encountering—the newest version was unstable, and the only stabilizing ingredients had rendered the potion ineffective—the basics were the same.

Draco had started from scratch, where Severus had seen no need to do so. He had built on the existing Wolfsbane Potion, and—since he wasn't at the stage of testing on people—had allowed himself the freedom to experiment. He was nowhere near finding a cure, and had no illusions about beating Draco to it. After all, Draco spent eight hours a day in his lab to Severus' handful a week, had a complete potions laboratory at his disposal and limitless funding.

He shared his findings to a captive Draco, whose eyes went wide as he listened. It had seemed foolhardy to add belladonna at the first stage of creating the potion, but the risk had paid off. Draco put down his fork and Severus could see his mind working, and saw the light of recognition behind it.

"Oh," Draco said softly, looking around suddenly, then patting his pockets. "I think I might go into the lab for a few hours... Take some notes..." He drifted off much to Severus' amusement, then said, "I'd have never thought of that. We'd always assumed..."

Severus took a bite of his roast, unconcerned at the sudden silence. Upon looking up to continue their conversation, he noticed Draco had gone completely pale, his eyes like steel and his fingers clenching the edge of the table. Severus went for his wand, and then stopped when Draco remained still, and forced himself to do the same. He was just about to turn to see what had upset Draco to such an extent, when he heard the sound of familiar boots approaching.

"Severus," Lucius greeted, not casting a glance at Draco. "How fortunate I was able to find you. I looked for you at your...home, but Potter said—"

"You went to my house?" Severus asked, forcibly reminding himself that Harry was perfectly capable of handling himself, and that Lucius would gain nothing from attacking the savior of the Wizarding world.

"If you'd like to call it that," Lucius said with a smirk, and Severus noticed how Draco continued eating his steak, forcing himself to appear completely unaffected by Lucius. He absentmindedly wondered if this was the first time they'd seen each other since Lucius had tried to kill him. "I have a business proposition to discuss with you," Lucius continued with a seamless transition. "I've rented a room in town. Would you like to accompany me? After your..." he said, his eyes finally flitting over Draco, his cadence never losing a beat, "meal, of course."

"No, thank you," Severus said, mindful that he was in a public place. "I can't imagine I have time for any business ventures at the moment."

His lips quirking, Lucius said, "I believe it would be to your benefit. Yours and your...husband's." At Severus' glare, he continued, "I've heard you and Potter have petitioned for adoption."

"Your point?" Severus asked through gritted teeth, his hand on his wand.

"Only that this could benefit your growing family as well."

Hexing Lucius was out of the question, Severus realized, and cursed that he and Draco had chosen a restaurant with a patio on the main road of Hogsmeade. He watched as Draco speared his meat with barely controlled rage, and hated Lucius even more for what he'd done to him.

Knowing Lucius would stay until he agreed, and not wanting to cause Draco more discomfort, Severus said, "Fine," removing his napkin and putting it on the table. He reached into his pocket to pull out an appropriate number of Galleons, but Draco waved a hand.

"I've got it, Severus," Draco said, visibly forcing himself to neither look up at Lucius or down at his hands.

"Nonsense, Severus," Lucius said, then dropped more than enough Galleons on the table. Draco looked beside himself with rage. "After all, what good is the Malfoy fortune if it can't be used to treat old friends?"

Severus said nothing as he stood up, while Lucius began to walk down the road. He cast a glance at Draco, who had now abandoned his attempts at feigning nonchalance, his face twisted in disgust.

There were no words of comfort that would be to any benefit, Severus knew, and so he placed a hand on Draco's shoulder, who accepted his attempt at sympathy by not throwing it off.

* * *

"Please come in," Lucius said, breezing through his suite to the small table and chairs that were set up near the back. "Would you care for a drink?" he asked, holding up a bottle of Talisker, a scotch Severus had always favored and hadn't imbibed since the last time he'd set foot in Malfoy Manor.

His interest must have shown on his face, because Lucius smirked and said, "I remember how you favored it in the old days. Two fingers? And you may take the bottle with you, of course. I'm sure Potter would love to try some."

It was the first time he'd spoken of Harry without an accompanying jibe since they'd married. The hairs on the back of Severus' neck stood on end and he shook his head. "No, thank you," he said politely, not willing to allow the situation to deteriorate into hostility quite yet. "Perhaps you should tell me why you've asked me here."

Lucius simply chuckled. "I've always admired that about you, Severus—your frankness, your willingness to speak your mind."

Severus took his seat and said nothing in reply to the false compliments as Lucius gathered himself. He leaned back in his chair and gave Severus a deceptive smile.

"So...how are you, Severus? I feel as though we haven't spoken for so long, what with all these silly rivalries between us." At Severus' continued silence, he went on, "And your husband? I hear he's in good health."

"Extremely. And your young wife?" Severus asked, forcing his body to relax even as he kept his hand ready to grab his wand at a moment's notice.

Lucius' smile grew larger. "She's well, thank you. And yes, she is rather young, but for good reason." He took a sip of his own drink, then said, "I believe I've learned the error of my ways from my last marriage. It's too risky to have only one child. There's simply too much at stake, especially when one considers inheritance and family business."

The part of Severus that delighted in slicing open such arrogance with brutal sarcasm smirked at that, a snide remark on how murder was one way of culling the Malfoy litter poised on his tongue. But that would only end the conversation, and Severus needed to discover what all this was about.

"Doubtless she'll prove an excellent brooding mare," Severus said plainly, and nearly laughed at the darkness that passed over Lucius' eyes before he chortled.

"Oh, Severus," he said, "how I've missed that wicked tongue of yours."

Not wanting such forced pleasantries to continue a moment longer, Severus waved a hand and said, "As to why you brought me here..."

"Yes," Lucius said, then Summoned a folder from another corner of the room. "There is a business I've recently acquired in which I believe you'd be interested." At Severus' dead stare, he continued, "Leviathan Research..." he said, opening the folder and removing a stack of papers.

As much as he was loath to admit it, the name _was_ enough to pique Severus' interest. Leviathan Research was one of the most prestigious potions pharmaceutical companies in Britain. He'd read it had suffered a loss of staff to Pearson Pharmaceuticals in the last few years, the Ministry contract for the cure to lycanthropy acting like a siren call to every potions master wanting to make a name for themselves.

"I see you're familiar with the name," Lucius said with a smirk, drawing Severus from his thoughts.

"It's one of the most successful potions laboratories in Britain," Severus said, saying no more than the truth.

"_One of_ the most successful, yes. However, a decade ago it was _the_ most successful laboratory. I acquired it while it was experiencing...a few difficulties. Now that it is in my control I wish to remake it, bring it back to its former glory."

"Oh?" Severus said, interested despite himself. "And how do you plan on accomplishing this?"

"Well, no doubt there will be restructuring and redefining the company goals..." he stopped and poured himself another drink. "However, I wish to begin as I intend to go on, and that means hiring only the very best. Naturally I want you, Severus, as my project manager."

It was only years of learning to control his reactions that allowed Severus to keep a straight face. "I beg your pardon?"

"You're one of the most brilliant potions masters in all of Britain, Severus, and your talent is currently being wasted. I'm offering you the top position in the largest potions company in the country. As project manager you would have the last word on all research, on how funds are allocated, on company hiring processes." He paused and smiled, no doubt taking in Severus' bewildered expression. "You could hire an assistant, someone to manage the day-to-day affairs while you concentrate solely on research." Lucius pushed forward a piece of paper from the pile and passed it to Severus.

"Your compensation, of course, would be considerable."

Knowing he would regret it, Severus looked down at the piece of paper and clenched his fists. His yearly salary would be twice the amount he and Harry had made over the past four years combined.

"I know your life has been difficult up to now, my friend," Lucius said, his tone becoming uncharacteristically soft. "But this is the offer of a lifetime, one I am happy to give to you."

Severus' jaw was clenched to the point of aching, but he forced himself to maintain control. He'd learned what Lucius had wanted of him, and would have been amused at the attempt at a bribe if it wasn't so cruel. A dangling carrot offered to a starving man.

"Why?" Severus asked, a plethora of questions contained in that single word.

"Because I want the best, Severus," Lucius said, his eyes shining in victory. "And you are the best."

"No," Severus said, all attempt at civility forgotten as he prepared himself for what was coming. "Why do you want to destroy Slytherin so badly?"

The smile was wiped from Lucius' face and he sneered. "Please don't tell me you'd pass over a small fortune and creative control over the best funded laboratory in Britain for...those children."

"If I were to leave Hogwarts, the Board would dissolve Slytherin," Severus said, stating plainly what they both already knew. "That is not the question. Your intent is obvious. Your reason is not." As Lucius' body lost its relaxed posture and he began to finger the handle of his cane, Severus continued, "Why this crusade, Lucius? You've reestablished yourself in society, you've saved yourself from Azkaban."

Digging his nails into the arms of his chair, Severus glared and said, "You've thrown away your old family and started another. There seem to be few who are willing to cross you these days. Why continue? Why do you want Slytherin destroyed so badly?"

Lucius' sinister chuckle in reply was enough to send a chill down Severus' spine. Though he knew he could best Lucius in a fight, he now knew Lucius had more weapons in his arsenal than just a wand.

"Why?" Lucius repeated. "Oh, Severus... For all your involvement with the Dark Lord, you are still so very naive."

At Severus' sneer, he continued, waving his hand about with obvious pleasure. "The why is very simple. No matter my efforts for the past few years, the citizens of our world still think of only one thing in connection to the name Malfoy: the Dark Lord." He slammed his glass down on the table and his voice took on a darker tone, all his false grace pushed aside. "Malfoy is one of the oldest pure-blood families, a name that has thrived for generations, and it has been tarnished by a psychopath who died at the hands of a seventeen-year-old half-blood."

"Your name was tarnished only by you, Lucius," Severus said, his voice like steel. "It was your own decision to join him."

Ignoring Severus' insult, Lucius continued, "I will only regain my family's good name when I've been absolved of the past."

The light went on in Severus' head, seeing now what had been so obvious before.

"You're destroying all connections between the Dark Lord and yourself... That's why you're set on destroying Slytherin."

"Ever since the rise of the Dark Lord, people have hated Slytherin, wanted to see us fail," Lucius said with a sneer. "Even before his second coming, the public grew weary of Slytherin, distrustful." His eyes turned to slits and for the first time, he spoke in a raised voice. "By the time I've finished dismantling the remains of Slytherin heritage in the press, the public will be _begging_ for its destruction. Destruction I will gladly bring, and then..." he paused and smiled, sending another tingling chill through the hairs on the back of Severus' neck. "Then Malfoy will be known as the rescuer of children, as the protector of society, not as its destroyer."

It was a cunning plan, Severus was forced to admit, and one Lucius was capable of accomplishing. If Lucius was hell-bent on damaging Slytherin to the point where the public would call for its removal...

"I must be quite an annoyance if you're offering something so large as a bribe."

Lucius smirked, his false good nature returning to him. "You were a hero, Severus, and not a part of my plan in the least. I had no great desire to see you fail..." he said, pausing to look over Severus. "And then you married yourself to Potter, which was quite smart of you, and...you were virtually untouchable."

At Severus' smirk, Lucius said, in a lowered voice, "_Virtually_ untouchable." The threat hung in the air between them, their eyes meeting in a glare, as Lucius continued, "It would be far easier for me if you took the offer, Severus. It would be far easier on _everyone_."

Severus couldn't help the dark chuckle that poured out of him at the threat, and stood up, throwing the paper across the table.

"Thank you, Lucius, but I believe I'll have to decline your offer."

"Think about this, Severus. Think about what it would mean to your family if you accepted this," Lucius said, getting to his feet as well. "It would not be wise to deny me."

Gritting his teeth, Severus' hand traced the outline of the wand in his pocket. "I have no use for threats," he said, then gestured to the paper. "Or thirty pieces of silver."

"Walk out that door and you've sealed your fate," Lucius threatened with a hiss. "I _will_ get what I want in the end. If I have to destroy your reputation, destroy that pitiful existence you call a life in order to do so, then so be it."

And he could do it too, Severus realized, though his mind was already made.

"If anyone will return honor to your name, it won't be you, Lucius."

They kept their eyes on each other as Severus began to leave the room. He had turned to open the door when Lucius said, "My regards to your husband, Severus. As well as your expected children. I'm sure they have a..." he paused with practiced arrogance, "_charming_ childhood ahead of them."

Severus gave no parting shot, his control waning as his hand itched for his wand, and Apparated on the spot.

* * *

Severus lingered on the doorstep of his and Harry's home for a few moments, his adrenaline waning now that his confrontation with Lucius had ended.

Thoughts he'd kept at bay during their conversation came at him like a flood, and he buried his head in his hands in the afternoon sunlight.

He knew he couldn't have taken the offer, even if it had been extended by someone else, someone who genuinely wanted Severus to head their company. He had no need to remind himself that he was the only person standing between a thousand years of tradition and complete destruction. The children depended on him, and as much as he hadn't asked for that job, he knew he couldn't abandon them. Even if the position Lucius had offered was everything he had ever wanted.

And it was, Severus admitted to himself while neighbors waved to him as they passed. The idea of having his own laboratory, an unlimited budget and a staff to take care of everything that wasn't research...

It had been his greatest temptation, but the victory of his resistance was bittersweet.

He closed his eyes and paced the front steps, trying to push the idea from his mind, but all he could see was what might have been. If only Lucius wasn't so hell-bent on this damn crusade, if only the Board of Governors weren't so weak-minded.

If only Albus hadn't died and left Severus alone in his defense of Slytherin...

Except that he wasn't alone. Not in the least, he thought, gathering his resolve as he entered their home.

The salary Lucius had offered would have been more than enough to support their incoming family, even if they were less than frugal. The idea of going abroad, of actually seeing the world he'd only dreamed about stormed through his mind, and Severus bit his lip in an effort to control his anger.

There was no point thinking about it now. There would be no leaving Hogwarts. Not until Lucius died, and by then Severus' pathetic excuse for a life would be nearly done with as well.

It was a Saturday, which meant Harry was either catching up on grading, reading or flying about their small yard like an overeager canary.

The thought of Harry produced a long sigh as he continued walking through their home. He knew he wouldn't have survived the last few years without his unflappable husband, and the thought of being able to leave here and allow Harry some much-needed respite was a raw one.

Harry didn't deserve all this. It he had married anyone else he could have had whatever life he wanted. Perhaps he would've still chosen Hogwarts, but not at the end of a wand, and certainly not like this.

Not finding Harry hovering over their garden or in their sitting room, Severus went into the bedroom to investigate. Sure enough, Harry was sleeping soundly, a thin sheet the only thing covering his body at five o'clock in the afternoon.

It made Severus' heart ache to see Harry so tired.

Slowly, he pulled off his boots and stripped down to his pants, pulling up the sheet and tugging Harry's naked body so it covered his own.

"Mmm," Harry said, waking enough to recognize the arms that held him. "No pants," he murmured, and Severus gave a soft laugh as he removed the offending garment.

"That's better," Harry said softly, arranging himself in a comfortable position to continue his nap.

"Are you well?" Severus asked, surprised Harry hadn't woken when he'd disturbed him.

"Headache," Harry said, his stillness explained. "Just wanted to lie down for a bit."

"Did you take a potion?"

"Yeah," he answered softly, his head no doubt still pounding. "It's almost gone. Malfoy came by, the evil one," Harry muttered. "What did he want?"

Severus' body stilled, but Harry wasn't awake enough to notice. Not wanting to disturb Harry's rest, he said, "I'll tell you about it later," Severus whispered and kissed Harry's forehead. "What did you do with your afternoon?"

"Ron and Hermione came by. She's as big as a house now. Baby's due in a few weeks," Harry said, muffled by his pillow yet Severus could clearly hear his smile. "She wanted to ask you how your experiments were going and Ron says you owe him a game of chess." He exhaled deeply and draped himself further over Severus. "How was lunch with shit-for-brains?"

Severus snorted and began petting Harry's hair, then kissed his face gently. Looking down on him, Severus was filled with a sense of regret, of wanting so much more for him, hating that he wasn't able to provide.

"Why did you marry me?" he asked suddenly, his thoughts filled with doubt and the desire to know how he could have possibly been found worthy by someone as wonderful as Harry. "You could've had any man you wanted. You could've had the job you wanted and lived a good life. You wouldn't be forced to teach all day long, forced to live in this shack of a house, be married to a miserable old git like me."

Harry shifted his head and looked up at Severus, his eyes alert now, filled with sadness and sympathy. Cupping Severus' cheek in his hand, he asked, "Did something happen today?"

Still determined not to address Lucius' cruelty until later, he shook his head and said, "Nothing that merits discussion right now." He paused and looked down, taking in Harry's lovely face and the eyes reflecting his anguish. "Why, Harry?" he asked, insisting on an answer. Even after years together he still couldn't understand his good fortune, how one part of his life was so fulfilling while every other aspect was left wanting.

"Believe it or not, you make it easy," Harry said, his voice soft and sweet. "You know, for someone so smart you can be a real idiot sometimes." At Severus' continued melancholy, Harry went on, "I think it's a real shame you don't see yourself the way I see you. If I could change one thing, that would be it. I'd let you see yourself through my eyes.

"I'm glad you think so highly of me, but...I think I'm the one who's lucky," Harry said, and Severus snorted. "Everyone talks about how brave you are and how self-sacrificing to do what you're doing for the Slytherins." He smiled and kissed Severus lightly, then said, "But I'm the only one who knows how really wonderful you are. How kind and giving, how fierce you are in everything you do." He let his hand touch Severus' chest and then fall downward, pulling at the sparse amount of hair, traveling lower along his stomach, to his soft cock and balls. "Or how sexy," he said, pushing his hand down further to lightly stroke his perineum. Severus' cock twitched lightly as he felt the heavy cloud of misery begin to dissipate.

"Plus, Potter-Snape has a certain ring to it," Harry said, kissing Severus' neck in an obvious attempt at distraction.

"What?" Severus asked as his cock began to swell at Harry's attentions. He groaned when Harry stopped, but was intrigued by the hesitant smile on Harry's face as he took Severus' hand in his own.

"Something came by owl while you were having lunch with Draco," Harry said, and Severus stilled at the mention of Draco's given name. Harry quickly turned to his nightstand and came back with a folder, and Severus sensed something important was about to happen.

Sitting up in bed, Harry handled the folder with reverence before he opened it and removed a picture of an infant. He smiled and showed it to Severus, whose heart had begun to beat madly in his chest when he realized at whom he was looking.

"His name is Jonathan," Harry said, handing the picture to Severus, who took it with a shaking hand. "His mother died in childbirth, and...there wasn't a father. They said it was important to her that he have that name."

The infant...Jonathan...was dressed in blue, his hands covered with tiny mittens, head covered with a blue cap. He looked almost pink and Severus thought that if the hat were removed, it would reveal a slightly misshapen head. The picture was moving and Jonathan was looking at the camera and drooling, his hands flailing about as Severus had seen infants do.

"That was taken a few weeks ago. They sped up the process," Harry said, nervous now. "Or they're going to speed it up. We'll be getting him in three months."

Three months. Severus would be a father before Draco then. The thought filled him with the same apprehension he'd felt earlier, but this time the hope returned with it.

"Severus..." Harry said, his voice far softer than it had been. "Say something."

He couldn't even begin to process what he was feeling. Looking down on the picture of...his son, he tried to fathom that he was looking at someone who in a few months' time would be his. His and Harry's. Doubt flooded his mind as the concept of fatherhood became all too real now that he saw the child's face. This was no longer an abstract concept, something ill-defined that worried him at night.

There was a picture of a boy in his hand. A boy who would be his son.

"Severus?"

He knew he would confide in Harry later, but right now he sensed Harry required reassurance, knowledge that he wouldn't be alone in this.

As if he could ever deny Harry anything.

"I think..." Severus said, trailing off, "that...Jonathan Potter-Snape is a good name."

Harry's blinding smile told him his response had been the proper one. He quickly plucked the picture out of Severus' hand, carefully replaced it in its folder, then threw himself on Severus with all his might.

Positioning himself so Harry could fall between his legs, Severus gasped as Harry began sucking on the sensitive spot on his neck. "I take it...fuck...your headache's gone away."

"Mmm, benefits of being married to a potions master," Harry said with a purr as his hands returned to their earlier preoccupation. Severus gasped again as his balls were rolled by an expert hand, as he heard the other shuffle about for the lubricant in their side table. Harry began running his hand down the sensitive underside of Severus' cock while fingers breached his opening with practiced ease.

"God, you're always so beautiful like this," Harry whispered as his fingers went deeper, tearing another gasp from him as he writhed on their bed. "You have no idea what you look like, all spread out for me."

"No..." Severus grunted, then pulled on Harry's hair. "But I know what _you're_ going to look like if you don't get on with it."

With a chuckle, Harry removed his fingers and leant over to pull Severus' legs up and keep as much of their flesh in contact as possible.

"So pushy," Harry said, the head of his cock making contact with Severus' hole.

"I have to be..." he moaned as Harry entered him, filling him in one hard motion, "in this undignified position."

"I like this position," Harry said, pushing himself up to his knees. "I can see your face."

No longer having the will to protest, Severus let his head fall back against the pillow as Harry made love to him. And as much as he hated the phrase, there was no other way to describe it. It was everything he needed after such a terrible day, and he felt his heart open as Harry said without words all that Severus meant to him.

He felt completely exposed, all his faults spread out and examined, yet somehow found worthy. And just as Severus began to believe he couldn't stand such an overflow of emotion, Harry began to fist Severus' cock, his hips jerking up to meet him.

"Fuck—Severus!" Harry shouted as he came inside, Severus following soon thereafter, coating his own chest in come. Quickly, he grasped Harry with his thighs and silently willed him to remain inside, if only for another moment, not wanting to break the connection he'd needed just yet.

"Are you all right?" Harry asked, still panting. Sweat hung off his fringe, prickling Severus' face and forcing him to open his eyes.

His heart feeling lighter than it had before, Severus forced away the remaining darkness, cupped Harry's cheek, and whispered, "Yes."


	5. Chapter 5

Thanks to everyone who's been reading and reviewing. There's just one part to go after this one. I hope you enjoy it.

-

* * *

Three and a half months later, Severus found himself in a position for which he quickly realized he was woefully unprepared.

"Just look at him," Harry whispered as they both stood vigil over their six-month-old son, asleep in his cot. "He's beautiful."

Severus had to admit Jonathan no longer had that odd newborn baby look about him. His color had improved and he now had tufts of brown hair covering his head. His plushy form looked similar to pictures he'd seen of other six-month-olds in the books on child rearing he'd procured for research. Severus exhaled a deep breath in gratitude for that.

Jonathan had seemed to be delighted with the toys Harry had given him upon his arrival, and the mobile of prancing unicorns Filius had charmed had put him right to sleep. It was a good thing too; Severus felt as though he needed the respite, which was a ridiculous thought. After all, he'd faced down the most powerful dark wizard of the last fifty years with far more grace than he was currently exhibiting with his own child.

He stilled at the thought. Even through the months of preparation, even as he and Harry had made their home ready for Jonathan, and though he'd read dozens of books on the subject, Severus still doubted his ability to properly raise a child.

"How're you holding up?" Harry asked, putting his head on Severus' shoulder and tightening the grip around his waist.

"That remains to be seen," Severus whispered, unwilling to wake Jonathan just yet.

"It's okay to be nervous," Harry replied, "I'm nervous, too."

"Nonsense. You'll be an excellent father. It's in your nature to be...kind and open."

Sighing, Harry kissed Severus' cheek. "He's asleep. We can talk while we eat lunch. Okay?"

At Severus' nod, they exited the room, neither releasing the other as they walked two abreast through the nursery door.

They made sandwiches in comfortable silence, and Severus had no doubt that Harry's mind was wandering as much as his own.

There was a very small, very soft, very young stranger sleeping in a cot in one of his and Harry's upstairs bedrooms. Seeing this child in his home, holding him in his arms, had already produced some of the oddest protective feelings Severus had ever felt. It was different than the way he'd felt about Harry prior to falling in love with him. Jonathan was completely dependent on both of them. He was now their responsibility until he reached his majority...and long after that, Severus realized. They were now attached to another person for life.

And though his fears hadn't completely abated, seeing Jonathan, holding him, had settled many of his most horrible doubts. The thing that was weighing most heavily on his mind now was his own heart, and whether he was capable of accepting this stranger into it.

"I'm scared, too," Harry said as he chewed his sandwich. "You're not the only one."

They'd been having this conversation for the past few months, and Severus had no desire to rehash it once again. Instead he stated, "Tomorrow is Monday. You've arrange for Molly—"

"Pick him up at seven-thirty, drop him off at eight in the evening." Running a hand through his hair, Harry blew out a puff of air and said, "Wish we didn't have to cart him off like that...and just when he got home, too."

Yes, this was Jonathan's home, Severus supposed. "Nonsense. He'll have more fun with the Weasley grandchildren than he would anywhere else."

"Yeah."

They sat in silence for a few more moments, both lost in their own thoughts. Finally, Harry reached for that day's _Prophet_, it having been forgotten in the excitement of Jonathan's arrival, and opened it to the front page.

"Oh..." Harry said, putting his sandwich down on his plate and leaning over the paper. "Oh...that _bastard_," he hissed.

"What?" Severus asked, a different kind of apprehension coming over him. His name had been mentioned in the paper a handful of times since his confrontation with Lucius, always slipped into some article and always mentioning his defense of Slytherin. It had started, predictably enough, in an announcement of a robbery. One of his older students, who had been a sympathizer of the Dark Lord, had been arrested and sentenced to a year in Azkaban. The article had made mention of his origins in Slytherin, a house which Severus defended for some apparently nefarious reason.

The attacks continued, always done in one line or two, and always connecting Severus in some way to the Dark Lord. This, however, was the first time the article had his name in the headline.

_Snape and Potter Adopt Baby Boy_, it read, and the first line, in larger print than the rest, said, "Slytherin defender and his husband have adopted a child, this reporter learned today..." The rest of the article gave the details of the adoption as well as subtly questioning whether someone who defended a house of dark wizards ought to have the right to raise a child.

"He has no right to do this," Harry said, slamming his fist down on the table. "How can he— I know this paper is a rag, but for it to print such garbage—"

"Yes," Severus agreed, trying to keep his own anger under control, even as he looked off into the distance to see what was coming. "However, he does own the paper. He can tell his reporters to print whatever he desires."

"And he desires to paint you as," Harry said, looking down at the paper and quoting, "'a man who may have once been deemed a hero, but whose actions should now be called into question.' He's trying to change the public's view of you."

"Yes." And he would succeed too, Severus thought. While he'd enjoyed not being a complete pariah after the war, Severus wondered what could be the purpose of this intentional slander. The Wizengamot had never brought charges against him, and the Aurors who had been present at the Final Battle had all reported on whose side he'd fought.

It was all just an attack on Slytherin, Severus realized, and an attempt to remove their only protector.

"Well, what are we going to do?" Harry asked, even as Severus realized the truth.

"The _Prophet_ is the most widely read newspaper in Wizarding Britain. I don't think there's much we can do."

Sputtering, Harry said, "So that's it? We're just not going to do anything? Luna helps her father with _The Quibbler_. Maybe she can run an article—"

"She can if she'd like," Severus said, interrupting before this got out of hand, "but _The Quibbler_ isn't as widely read, or as trusted. Harry..." Severus said, and waited for Harry to calm enough to look at him, "there isn't much we can do in this instance. There's hardly any way to defend against it. We can speak to the Board in their next meeting, if you'd like, but aside from that..." He drifted off as he felt the futility of their situation, how little they had to fight with. "We continue living our lives. We're both good professors, and our students all receive excellent marks. We're married, and we've started a family."

"So...we just continue as we were and hope the Board...what? Thinks we're good people?"

At Severus' shrug, Harry put his head in his hands. After a few moments of quiet, he looked up from the table and said, "What if we started an alternate newspaper...? The Potter fortune—"

"No."

"But—"

"No! Damn that foolish idealistic Gryffindor streak. This is a fight we cannot win, and would only lose more in the trying!"

Throwing back his chair, Harry paced about their kitchen, running his hands through his hair in frustration. After years of familiarizing himself with Harry's habits, Severus allowed him to fume, saying nothing and patiently waiting for him to calm.

After another moment, Harry sat down and took a sip of his tea, saying nothing more in the face of such unfairness. Severus remained still, although he wanted nothing more than to rage in the way Harry had just done, instead forcing himself to keep the peace in the way Harry had so many times for him.

There was a sound from upstairs, Jonathan making cooing noises in his cot for a moment before he quieted again. Harry listened, but there was only silence, and Severus watched as he deflated and took a bite from his sandwich.

"It will be all right," Severus said, though he could hardly say that for certain. Wanting to be a stalwart for Harry, he grasped his hand and held it tight.

Harry gave a pained smile and nodded. "Right," he said, putting down his half-eaten sandwich. Leaning back in his chair and feigning nonchalance, he said, "So...you think maybe we could talk about more important things?"

"Such as?"

Harry looked towards the top floor and gave a nervous grin. "I think I'll go first." At Severus' raised eyebrow, he said, "Please? I don't know about you, but I need to get this out."

Finishing his tea, Severus nodded and leaned forward to listen.

"I didn't have real parents growing up," Harry started, "and the shoddy replacements I got treated me like absolute shit...and I'm afraid I have no idea how to do this properly."

"No dancing around the subject, I see," Severus said with a dark smirk. "Always have to bravely charge in where angels fear to tread, don't you, Potter?"

Harry bowed his head and gestured for Severus to speak.

With a sigh, he said, "I realize all new parents have certain...doubts, but I can't help but feel mine might be slightly more justified."

"Okay," Harry said, nodding and not simply waving away Severus' fears.

"I'm older than most new parents, more set in my ways. Unlike most people, I never had close friends with children, never had to interact with any...well, not with children this young. And never on such an intimate level." Rubbing his temples, Severus sighed, then said, "_My_ father was a bastard."

"So was my uncle," Harry said, "but I'm not him. And you're not your father."

A snort, and Severus said, "Obviously."

"So..." Harry said, biting his lip, looking a bit nervous now. "We can do better, right? And we'll have help. The Weasleys are going to love him, and you know he'll have playmates growing up."

There was an anxiousness about Harry that hadn't been there a moment before, and Severus noticed how he studied his fingers, then looked upstairs towards the nursery again. Not wanting Harry to feel this way, Severus grasped his hand, and said, "Neither of us are destined to parent as our own guardians did." As Harry smiled and entwined their fingers, Severus continued, "So I think we're in agreement... I will not get drunk and shout at him, and you will not force him to sleep in a cupboard."

Harry's laugh was just a tad too hysterical for Severus' peace of mind, so he continued holding his hand, offering strength as Harry had so often done for him.

"We can do this," Harry said a moment later, convincing himself as he tried to convince Severus.

"Indeed."

"Right. So tomorrow—" he said, but was cut off by a cry from the nursery. A smile overtook Harry's face as he gestured upstairs. "You ready?"

"As I'll ever be," Severus said with a put-upon sigh.

"That's the spirit," Harry said with a laugh, tugging on Severus' hand as he led the way up the stairs.

* * *

A soft sort of smile adorned Cedric's face as he watched Professor Snape put to practice skills he'd read about for the past few months. He didn't bother stifling his laugh when the professor began his first nappy change, and watched silently as he sat in a rocking chair with a baby and bottle in hand.

If he was still inwardly doubting himself, Cedric couldn't tell. As he watched scenes from their daily life pass by, Cedric was happy to see Professor Snape take on the role of father with all the grace with which he'd done everything else.

"Harry was born to be a father," Sirius said, steadfastly ignoring the images of Snape and concentrating on Harry. "Look at him. Look how great he is with that kid." He was silent for a moment, watching Harry stack blocks on the floor with Jonathan while Snape looked on. "Merlin, I miss him."

"As do I," Dumbledore said, his smile wistful, but his heart happy. "But they'll all be here one day," he said, his mind considering the amount of time they had left to help Severus. "Some sooner than others if we don't hurry."

"So what happened with Malfoy?" Cedric asked as he watched a family dinner, this time with a new member. "And who's that girl?"

"That...is Elizabeth," Dumbledore said fondly. "But we're getting ahead of ourselves." He waved a hand across the window and began another series of images, ones with Harry reading the _Prophet _and excusing himself from the table in anger, of Severus being glared at—and in one image, shouted at—while walking through Diagon Alley.

"Lucius Malfoy continued to destroy Severus' reputation in the press, attempting several times to have him removed from Hogwarts," Dumbledore said as he watched the scenes unfold.

"But what happened?" Cedric asked.

"The Board wasn't quite as fickle as Lucius believed. The number of Severus' supporters dwindled, but Lucius never gained the majority he needed to have him removed. It frustrated him to no end, and he took it out on Severus in the court of public opinion."

"Now that," Sirius said, pointing a finger at a picture of Snape, "is a load of shit."

"Sirius..." Dumbledore warned.

"No, really. I mean, there are so many _real_ reasons to hate Snape. He's greasy, he smells bad, he thinks he's better than everyone... I mean, the list goes on and on. But all that crap they wrote about him—"

"Lucius Malfoy successfully changed the public's view of Severus," Dumbledore said, interrupting Sirius now that time was of the essence. "The next nine years were, for the most part, full of days any family would have, except for the little war Lucius waged against Severus with such great patience."

"And the girl?" Cedric asked, watching a scene where Harry held her hand as Professor Snape ushered Jonathan into Slug and Jiggers.

Dumbledore smiled as he rushed his response. "When Jonathan was six years old, Harry told Severus he wanted to adopt another child."

"Yeah, they wanted another baby," Sirius said, remembering that day fondly. "But when Harry and Snape went to the orphanage to talk to the adoption accessor, this," he said, pointing to Elizabeth, who hid behind Harry's cloak as she walked down the street, "little angel ran right into Snape's robes."

"You were watching that day?" Cedric asked, wanting to hear the whole story.

"Oh, yeah," Sirius said, then laughed. "You should have seen the look on the poor love's face. She was being picked on by a few of the other kids and she wasn't looking where she was running. Then she runs right into Snape—and you know how ugly that bastard is—and he scared her half to death!

"After she calmed down enough, Harry just fell in love with her."

"Only Harry?" Dumbledore asked.

"Well, since Snape is incapable of love—"

"While Jonathan knew he was adopted from a very early age, he _had_ grown up knowing two loving parents. Most adopted children have...troubles in one way or another," Dumbledore said, waving his hand to show Jonathan reading a thick potions tome that looked even bigger than him. "But Elizabeth was four when she went home with Severus and Harry, and had a harder time adjusting."

"Harry did it in the end, though," Sirius said.

"Yes," Dumbledore agreed, nodding, "as well as Severus."

"So..." Cedric said, watching the mundane daily activities flash across the window, sometimes interspersed with a scene of Professor Snape being harassed while in public or Harry railing at something unknown. "They were happy. But...what happened?" he asked as the window went dark to once again show Professor Snape standing on the edge of the lake. "He has a family, he has Harry. Why would he possibly want to kill himself?"

"Several things happened today," Dumbledore said, keeping an eye on the time. "Today is the day before Severus' birthday, and it's also the day Pearson Pharmaceuticals finally created the cure to lycanthropy."

"Oh," Cedric said, and watched as the window shifted to show a picture of Professor Snape in his sitting room, reading the paper. He opened it while sipping his tea, then read the headline. Cedric watched as his face fell and his eyes stopped reading, his gaze turning inward.

"Now listen carefully, Cedric," Dumbledore said, leaning closer to him in urgency. "Time is of the essence and you'll need your wits about you if you're to save Severus."

"I'm ready," Cedric said, not taking his eyes off Professor Snape, even as he noticed Elizabeth lingering in the doorway.

"No, you're not," Dumbledore said darkly. "Not yet. The events that transpired today were vast, and you must watch closely if you're to help him. Now, you do know you'll have tools to aid you?"

"Um...well, since I'm not a Guardian yet, they never really—"

"That's fine, my boy," Dumbledore said, patting him on the shoulder, while in the back of his mind he was hoping this gamble would pay off. "Just know that you'll have certain powers available to you to help you aid Severus which you didn't have in life."

"Powers? Like what?" Cedric asked, realizing he hadn't had any need to practice magic since he'd arrived in Paradise.

"Don't worry about that now. Just know that nearly anything is possible," Dumbledore said, picking up Cedric's broom and handing it to him. "And remember, you don't have much time."

* * *

The pages crinkled in his hands as Severus reread the headline, his heart sinking even as he called himself a fool. He knew he'd had no real chance of ever discovering the cure to lycanthropy before Pearson did. They'd spent the last fourteen years utilizing a vast fortune and countless hours in a state-of-the-art laboratory, and with a number of potions masters dwarfed only by Leviathan. Really, this was hardly a surprise.

He reread the headline for the tenth time, looking at the picture of the team of potions masters, all with glasses of champagne in hand. Draco was there, and his image smiled and raised his glass towards Severus, as well as several of Severus' old Hogwarts classmates. It looked like it had been quite the party, he thought with spite as he noticed even Horace Slughorn had been invited, his image waving at Severus as well.

"You always did know how to pick your favorites, Horace," he muttered, not feeling an ounce of remorse for the loathing he felt towards the people in the picture. He scanned the list of names directly connected to the cure—Draco's was sixth out of twelve—and recognized some of the most prestigious potions masters in all of Britain. Today was a day that would go down in history, a day that benefited all the world.

And yet Severus couldn't help but close his eyes as his oldest dream died, as he felt the weight of failure descend upon him.

He'd been working on his pitiful little experiments for years, all in the name of finding a cure, and in one swift stroke a decade of work had been made absolutely meaningless. In that moment of selfishness, he even hated Draco, hated that he'd helped him over the years whenever he'd hit a snag in his experiments, hated that he hadn't bartered for something in exchange for the information he'd given Draco, hated that Harry had apparently had some positive effect on Severus after all.

He took a deep breath, imagined murdering Draco and everyone who worked with him in the worse way possible, then put it aside, not wanting to be the kind of man who would pull a friend down with himself. And Draco had been his student as well, and as his anger faded he realized he felt no small measure of pride in him.

That, unfortunately, had no effect on how he felt about himself. Putting down the paper, he massaged his temples and forced himself to take stock of the good things in his life in an attempt to ward away the awful stench of disappointment.

He'd been with Harry now for fourteen years. Their marriage wasn't always easy, and Severus knew he still took more from Harry than he gave, but they'd built a life together. His nose confirmed the thought, the smell of breakfast wafting through the house and into the sitting room. He gave a small smile as he stopped to consider what many men took for granted every day.

He had a husband who loved him, who was incredibly loyal, exceptionally giving and kind. Harry was the type of person Severus still had trouble believing existed in real life, and yet there he was, day after day.

"Breakfast in five!" Harry shouted from the kitchen, the call letting Severus and the children know it was time to finish their morning ablutions.

The children...

As he supposed he was taking stock of his life now that one chapter seemed to be over, Severus took a moment to consider the children. While the situation was nowhere near perfect, the family he and Harry had created had turned out far better than Severus could have expected.

Jonathan was...diligent. He'd been a happy child and had always known he'd been adopted. The times Molly hadn't been able to watch him, and Jonathan had met with the Slytherins in his and Harry's care, had been a stressful time to Severus. However, his fears over Jonathan's safety had quickly diminished when he saw how he delighted in watching Harry's classes but was truly fascinated by Severus'.

That particular revelation had produced a very smug delight from Severus. Harry had only laughed and said it had no doubt been something their son had inherited from his potions master father.

Jonathan had always watched the Potions classes with incredible enthusiasm, and since next year he'd be off to Hogwarts himself, Severus had begun to allow him to work hands-on with ingredients the year before. He'd thought it would be an excellent way to have him get ahead, and gain confidence in a field he might possibly choose as his career.

His efforts seemed to have had the opposite effect.

He'd thought that after years of watching Severus teach and work with potions, Jonathan would be able to produce potions effortlessly, perhaps even surpassing Severus' talent, once he began attending Hogwarts.

To Severus' surprise and Jonathan's extreme disappointment, he couldn't seem to connect theory with practice. He'd listened to Severus lecture for years, but when he tried to apply his knowledge in a practical setting he was unable.

The day his Swelling Solution had turned a dull grey and failed to swell the pastry Molly had let him take home with him had been a hard one. It had twisted Severus' heart to see the boy he'd raised be so disappointed with himself. He'd assured him that the potion was for second-years, and that Severus hadn't expected him to succeed on his first try.

But as much as he hated to admit it, Severus _had_ thought Jonathan would succeed. And he hated himself for being just a bit disappointed that he hadn't.

Severus had kept that to himself, ashamed of himself as a parent, well aware that Jonathan was only trying his best. Since that day, Jonathan had redoubled his efforts, reading and studying with Harry and Severus whenever he could. He'd improved quite a bit, but it still didn't come easy to him.

Then a few months ago, Jonathan had started growing his hair longer. It was almost below his ears now, and Severus recognized what he was doing.

He'd read books on what to expect from adopted children, and really should have anticipated this behavior. Jonathan wanted to prove himself worthy, wanted to show that he was intelligent enough to be Severus' son, that he was like Severus.

Watching it all play out nearly broke Severus' heart, and he had no idea how to confront him. Harry had tried talking to him, but Severus sensed that since he was the more reserved of the two of them, it would be his approval Jonathan would seek.

A light shuffling noise distracted him from his ruminations, and Severus turned to the entrance of the sitting room.

Elizabeth was standing shyly in the doorway, and when Severus noticed her, appeared to attempt to blend in with the wall.

He sighed and forced a smile, then opened his arms to her.

The fact that she came at all, if somewhat slowly, made him breathe a sigh of relief.

If Jonathan was having a bit of a rough time at the moment, Elizabeth had already had one hell of a life. She approached his chair, still so uncertain of her welcome, and he didn't hesitate to pull her onto his leg and wrap an arm around her.

With the other hand, he picked up the paper and showed her the headline. "See that? Your Uncle Draco has had a very important victory today."

She read the headline, then looked up at him and said, "Father says Uncle Draco is really a ferret in disguise."

Severus snorted before forcing his features to sternness. "That isn't very kind of you to say, young lady."

"But Father says—"

"Your Father and Uncle Draco are...friends of a sort. They didn't like each other when they were little, and now they have no idea how to behave." He looked down at her and frowned. "But that's no excuse for repeating an insult."

She nodded, properly chastised, and Severus hated it was his responsibility to do so.

He'd initially been against adopting an older child. After reading books on adopted children, he hadn't been sure he had the patience to deal with a girl who had grown up with no stable family. But then Harry had insisted they meet Elizabeth, and the icy rock that had been his heart had warmed...by at least a few degrees.

When they had first brought her home, Severus and Harry had a long discussion as to her ethnicity. Elizabeth was a beautiful, if somewhat awkward child, with short black hair and olive-colored skin. Severus insisted her family must have come from North Africa or the Middle East, while Harry swore she was Spanish. After a long, pointless discussion, they decided it might not matter until she was older; she was British and a Potter-Snape now.

And they'd worked long and hard to make her feel like she was just that. The way she sat on his knee now seemed like a miracle if Severus compared it to her behavior when she'd first arrived.

And though he knew he loved the children—surely it was impossible not to love someone so sweet and small, who looked up at you and called you 'Daddy'—there were still doubts lingering in the back of his mind. Yes, he loved them, knew he would do anything for them, as he would for Harry. But if he were completely honest with himself, he wasn't sure if he saw them as being well and truly _his_, and the thought was enough to unsettle him during the night.

The sound of the Floo flaring in the other room distracted him from his thoughts and he thought he heard Astoria speaking with Harry. This was confirmed a moment later when Harry said, "Oh, sure, we'd love to have them. Send them over when you're ready. We're just about to have breakfast."

"I think your friend is coming," Severus said to a fidgeting Elizabeth. "As soon as we have breakfast you can show her the new doll you got for Christmas."

"Okay," Elizabeth said, then jumped off Severus' lap and ran to the kitchen with all the excitement appropriate for a child her age.

Severus sighed, then closed the paper, pushing aside the melancholy nature of his thoughts and readying himself for the day.

They ate breakfast listening to the sound of Jonathan's youthful chatter about what he and Draco's second child—Alistair—would do during the day, and Harry's attempts to help Elizabeth overcome her meekness.

"You know what I think you and Victoria should do today?" Harry asked her as his eyes met Severus' from across the table. "You should paint a picture for your dad's birthday tomorrow. I bet the two of you could do something really nice with your paint set. What do you think?"

Elizabeth shrugged and pushed her eggs around her plate, then looked to a cupboard door where her latest artwork was displayed.

At Harry's lifted eyebrow, Severus said, "I think it sounds like an excellent idea. The wall in my lab has been looking rather dreary lately." He frowned and said, his voice deadpan, "I think I heard it crying last night."

Elizabeth giggled and Jonathan snorted around his toast.

"Perhaps you could bring some much-needed cheer to its life?"

Elizabeth nodded and drank her juice, then declared she was finished, no doubt in an attempt to go ready her room for Victoria.

"Two more bites," Harry said, even as he shooed Jonathan away to get ready for their guests. Elizabeth ate quickly, then fled the table, leaving Harry and Severus a few moments' peace.

His job done now, Harry leaned back in his chair and sipped his tea, while Severus began to tidy up the kitchen.

"Do you know if something's going on today? Astoria asked if we'd take the children so she and Draco could meet with the Minister and then something about registering a copyright," Harry asked as he Summoned the paper.

"Did you not think to ask her?"

"Well, I would have if I hadn't had six eggs going at the time," Harry said, and Severus turned away as Harry lifted his tea cup and opened the paper, not wanting to see his face when he read the news.

There was a sound of china meeting china, then a chair scraping across the floor before Harry gently laid his hand on top of Severus'.

"I'm sorry."

"Oh? For what exactly? That Draco has succeeded where I've failed? Or that hundreds of people will now be cured of a terrible disease, one of them a friend of yours?" Severus snapped, his anger finding its outlet in Harry.

"Don't..." Harry said, then grabbed Severus' hand in his own and spun him around so Severus had no place to hide. "I'm just sorry. I know how much..." Severus applauded the fact that Harry had finally learned that speaking of a thing was just as bad as reliving a thing to him, and he felt his anger deflate as quickly as it had come.

Strong arms wrapped around Severus and the familiar feeling of warmth and home flooded his senses as Harry embraced him. Why, he questioned, had he failed at every other aspect of his life except this? He kissed Harry's brow and tightened his grasp, grateful that despite everything, he had Harry.

"Dad, can I show Ali my—" Jonathan said as he came running into the room, then stopped upon witnessing his parents embracing. It was hardly a strange occurrence in their home, but something about their expressions must have given them away.

"Did something bad happen?" he asked in a soft voice.

"No," Harry said, then kissed Severus' cheek before pulling away. "It's good news. Your Uncle Draco's succeeded in finding the cure to lycanthropy." He showed the paper to Jonathan, who looked at the picture and seemed to understand.

"Oh," he said, then looked to Severus, clearly not knowing how he should react to the news. He'd witnessed many of Severus' experiments and had gained much of his potions knowledge by asking question after question about his research, sometimes well into the night. "So...that's good...right? Uncle Remus—"

"Won't have his wolfy days anymore," Harry said, finishing his sentence. "It's a very good thing," he said, then looked to Severus for confirmation.

"Yes," Severus said, as he began to remove the plates from the table. "Perhaps now he'll cease to bring fleas into the house and track muddy paw prints on the carpet."

Jonathan laughed and nodded, then asked, "Is it okay if I show Ali my new potions set?"

"Alistair is seven. I leave it to your discretion as to whether he should handle _your_ new potions set," Severus said, hoping to help build Jonathan's better judgment.

"All right!" Jonathan yelled as he ran from the room, leaving Severus to look after him in bewilderment.

"He's definitely your son," Severus said, wrapping an arm around Harry's shoulders.

"He's excited about a new potions set. I'd say he's _your_ son, without a doubt," Harry said with a laugh that quickly died, leaving the two of them in the kitchen, newspaper spread open on the table.

After a moment, Harry said, "I'm surprised Malfoy printed it. I guess he had to, though. News like that—"

"Hardly," Severus said, seeing through the obvious to the truth. "Draco's name is mentioned in that article three times. Disinherited or not, Lucius will benefit from the name 'Malfoy' being printed in such a positive light." He ran his thumb over the list of names, not bothering to hide his anguish.

"You can start something new now," Harry said, his voice a soft murmur. "Something interesting, something fit for you."

Severus couldn't even begin to contemplate another line of research, something that would no doubt yield no results after another decade of frustration and disappointment. Alone with Harry, he could admit—to himself at least—how much this disappointment affected him. He felt as though something he'd wanted his entire life was now gone, that he was a failure in every sense of the word.

Harry sighed, then turned to him and said, "Okay. Here's what we're going to do: I'm going to take care of the kids all day, and you're going to go to your lab and mope...all you want."

Severus couldn't help the snort that Harry's words inspired, even if the joke had been made at his expense. "Oh, how well you know me, Harry."

"Yes," Harry said, kissing him. "You go and feel sorry for yourself, listen to your post-punk New Wave albums, and curse Merlin. Then when you're done, and the kids have all gone to bed...I'll take care of you."

A hand crept down from behind Severus' back to the front of his trousers, and, despite the disappointment that was bearing down on him, Severus thought that sounded like an excellent way to end what was sure to be an awful day.

"Will you?" he drawled, his eyes heated, a challenge in his voice. He pushed aside his despair, and embraced his body's sudden interest.

"Oh, yes," Harry said, cupping Severus' balls through cloth and pushing back his hair to whisper, "I'll fuck you on your hands and knees until you beg for mercy...then ride you until my arse is sore."

"Merlin," Severus said, and pushed Harry against the table, kissing him roughly before the Floo flared.

"Harry, are you—oh!" Astoria said, shielding her eyes as Harry and Severus separated themselves. "I'm sorry, but...this is the Floo to the kitchen. And it _is_ eight-thirty in the morning."

"Sorry, Astoria," Harry said, straightening his shirt and trousers, then walking towards the Floo. "We just...erm..."

She laughed and seemed to brush off their indiscretion, then asked, "Is it all right if the kids Floo over?"

"Yeah, send them on through," Harry said, then called the children from upstairs.

"Thank you so much for watching them," Astoria said before she disappeared and the two Malfoy children exited the fireplace.

Jonathan and Elizabeth came running down the stairs to meet them, their footfalls making the telltale noise that told of children about the house, before Jonathan faltered as he took in Victoria.

Her blonde curls were up in pigtails today, and, Severus thought, Malfoy fortune or not, she looked every bit the princess.

"What?" she asked as Jonathan seemed to flounder. "Do I have something on my face?"

Quickly grabbing Alistair by the sleeve, Jonathan laid a fast punch on Victoria's arm, then ran up the stairs without another word.

"Ow!" she cried, grasping her arm. "He hit me!"

"Oh, God," Harry whispered under his breath, then, "I'll be sure to talk to him later, sweetheart. Now run along and go play." The two girls left, talking in girlish whispers about the strangeness of boys.

"What just happened?" Severus asked, not understanding what had prompted that show of violence.

"Your son's just discovered girls."

"Merlin..." Severus muttered, bringing a hand up to massage his temple.

"My thoughts exactly."

"Well, one of us has to speak with him," Severus said, not relishing the idea of _that_ talk. "He can't go around hitting girls he fancies."

"Oh, God!" Harry said, then put his face in his hands. "What if it actually works out between them? Shit-face would actually be my in-law!"

"The odds of that happening—"

"Are pretty good when you think about it," Harry said, sounding much more upset than Severus thought he had any right to be. "They'll be in the same year, they'll grow up together." His eyes went wide and he grabbed Severus' shoulders. "That's what they'll say at their wedding!"

"Harry—"

"'I always knew Jon and Vicky would end up together. I can still remember that first day of class when Jon set Vicky's hair on fire.' God! Why couldn't it be Emily? They see each other often enough."

"I doubt he'll end up with any of the Weasley offspring. As you said, he sees them often enough. Emily is like a sister to him," Severus said, amused.

"Yeah, but then I'd have Ron and Hermione as in-laws, not..."

Severus laughed, feeling a small fraction of the darkness recede, as it always did when Harry was being ridiculous.

"Just watch...it'll happen."

"Jonathan should be so lucky," Severus said, looking to Harry, his words carrying a far greater meaning. He leaned over Harry, wrapping his arms around his waist as he said, "Now where were we?"

"I think you," Harry said, punctuating his words with a kiss, "were about to pull out _Seventeen Seconds_ and get all this out of your system."

"No," Severus said, though he knew if his cock weren't half-hard, that's exactly what he'd be doing. He saw the darkness on the horizon of his mind, and strived to push it aside for just a moment longer. "I believe we were right here." His hands reached down to cup Harry's arse.

"Later," Harry whispered. "We'll fuck into your birthday. Best way to—"

"Severus!" a voice shouted from the Floo, and Severus' heart went cold at the sound of it, his thoughts going back a decade to the last time someone had shouted his name from the fire. The memory was enough to chill his blood.

Casting off his fears, he turned to the fire, expecting terrible news from Hogwarts. Perhaps Lucius had finally succeeded in ousting him, but then he realized that if that were the case Minerva would be in his Floo...

Not Kingsley Shacklebolt.

"What is it, Kingsley?" Harry asked, already halfway to his knees.

"Thank Merlin. Severus, I've just found out. I should have known about this sooner, but he's been slinking in and out of the DMLE—"

"Who, Kingsley?" Severus asked, his stomach churning at the mention of law enforcement, even as his heart sank. "What's happened?"

"Malfoy's called for your arrest, and it looks like the DMLE is buying it."

"What!" Harry cried out, reaching for Severus' hand. "On what charges?"

"Name it," Kingsley said darkly. "You're officially being called in for questioning, Severus, but in reality Malfoy has finally managed to convince some very important people that you weren't actually a spy for the Order during the war."

His heart fell somewhere between his knees as Severus realized that _this_ was what Lucius had warned him about in that room all those years ago. It had been far more difficult and had taken nearly a decade, but Lucius was finally going to have Severus removed from Hogwarts...and put into a cell in Azkaban.

"But...they can't do that," Harry said, his words coming out in a rush. "Severus was cleared of any charges."

"No, I wasn't," Severus said slowly, forcing himself to remain calm even as his heart was trying to break out of his chest. "I was never cleared of any charges because no charges were brought against me. If they had—"

"You would've been cleared in an instant," Kingsley said. "It was all over the papers, how you helped Harry, how you saved Draco... The Ministry wouldn't have laid a finger on you."

"Oh, God," Harry whispered.

"But now..." Severus said as his stupidity became apparent. All this time Lucius had been tearing him down, and this is what it had all been for. Now there was a very real risk he might lose his freedom, and all for the sake of Lucius clearing his family name.

"They'll be coming for you within the hour," Kingsley said, then looked behind him. "Do you have any evidence that could support your innocence? Hard evidence, Severus?"

"Yes," Severus said, relief flowing through him as his thoughts went back to a conversation he and Albus had had the week after the Final Battle. "Yes. Albus left memories of our discussions in his Pensieve, as well as memories from the Final Battle." He'd thought it odd at the time, but now he was never more grateful that his old friend had thought ahead. "Minerva has them at Hogwarts."

"Then I suggest you bring them with you when—" Kingsley said, then cut off abruptly. "No, I sent a memo to your secretary an hour ago... It's not my fault if he hasn't passed it on."

Kingsley disappeared and, with a glance to Harry, Severus threw in a handful of Floo powder and called out, "Headmistress of Hogwarts' private rooms!"

Putting his head into the green flames, he looked out into Minerva's private sitting room and began to call her name. A few agonizingly long moments later, she came running into the room, frowning, her concern obvious.

"Severus? I'm in the middle of a Board meeting. What's happened?"

"The DMLE is coming to arrest me," he said, cutting quickly to the crux of the matter. "Minerva—"

"But—why? How is that possible?" she asked, her voice frantic with disbelief. "What charges could they possibly—" she stopped herself and Severus saw her face turn red, her expression murderous as she worked through how it had happened. "That bastard..." she said in a hiss, turning her face towards her door.

"He's there now?" Severus asked.

"Yes," she said, grimacing. "After all this time, I never thought this would happen."

"Minerva, they'll be here within an hour. I need to know if you still have Albus' memories."

Her expression brightened, illuminating her eyes which had reflected such hopelessness before. "Yes. Yes, I—" She stood up and dusted herself off, as if only then realizing that this might not be the end of Severus. "I hadn't thought about them in years, but they're in a locked box hidden inside a wall in my private office."

His racing heart calmed as he realized that not all was lost, that there might still be a way out of this. "I'll need them when I go to the Ministry."

"Of course. Come right over and I'll have them for you."

"Thank you, Minerva. I'll be right over as soon as I've finished dressing." He cut the connection and noticed Harry had left the kitchen, only to return a moment later with his boots and cloak.

"It's cold out," Harry said, wrapping Severus in its warm folds. "I'm going with you to the DMLE."

"Yes," Severus said, knowing he needed help from anywhere he could get it. And while his name might be tarnished, Harry's wasn't. He grabbed another handful of Floo powder, but stopped when Harry grabbed his other hand.

The look Harry gave him was comforting and disturbing at the same time. Pulling Severus' chin down and cupping his face, green eyes met black, Harry's expression fearful and his entire body shaking, before he kissed Severus passionately, as though he'd never see him again.

Severus allowed the kiss for a moment, then tore himself away, and said, "I'll be right back. I'm not going anywhere without you."

"Better not," Harry said with a false smile.

"Call Molly and see if she can sit with the children while we're gone," he said and Harry nodded. Their hands grasped then released each other before Severus called out Minerva's location and jumped into the Floo.

He expected she'd be in her sitting room waiting for him, but the room was empty. Quickly, he walked through the door and into the private office Minerva kept, but found that empty as well. Alarmed, he opened the door to the outer office slowly, wary of allowing Lucius to see him, but the room was clear, the Board gone.

Worried now, the walls seeming to close in on him, he backtracked and walked around her desk, finally finding Minerva crumpled on the floor.

"Merlin," he muttered and quickly turned her over, checking for a pulse. It was steady and he whispered, _Rennervate_, his heart offering up a prayer to anyone who was listening.

"Severus..." she muttered upon waking and he breathed a sigh of relief. "What...no," she said, then sat up, quickly casting off the effects of the spell. "Oh, Merlin, no..."

"What happened? Who did this?" Severus asked.

She put her hands on her desk, then bent over to look on the floor, and Severus knew what had happened.

"He took it," she said. "That bastard must have come in and while I wasn't looking—"

"How did he know?" Severus asked as his heart went cold, as his fear began to reawaken. "There isn't a Silencing Spell on the door?"

"We aren't living in times of war, Severus. He must have heard your voice, and then— I didn't think to—"

"You didn't think..." he repeated, then forced himself to stop before he unleashed his anger.

"_Accio_ Albus' memories," she said with a flick of her wand, though he knew it was futile. Lucius would have destroyed them by now, leaving Severus with no concrete evidence for his defense.

The sudden weight of that knowledge hit him and he felt hopelessness and desperation in a way he'd never known before. The breath was knocked from his chest and he struggled to gasp for air, barely noticing how his vision blurred as panic set in. There would be nothing for him now, he realized. The life he'd built with Harry was falling apart with every staggered breath, with every forced beat of his heart. Lucius had defeated him in the end, and the certainty of that fact flooded through him, forcing him to use every ounce of his strength to simply remain upright. Once again there was nothing to be done, and Severus clutched at his heart, feeling as though it would burst through his rib cage at any moment.

Frantically, he forced his mind to think of something, anything—

Harry's defense wouldn't be enough, he knew, not with the public's current attitude towards him. They would call him in for questioning, but he had covered his own tracks so well when dealing with the Dark Lord that his status as a spy hadn't been revealed until he had turned against Lucius and the other Death Eaters at the Final Battle.

And if Lucius himself testified... Severus shuddered, his life flashing before his eyes, knowing Lucius could offer memory after memory of Severus giving the Dark Lord information on the Order, information on Harry's training, could show him making potions that had prolonged the Dark Lord's life. And that evidence would be far more damning than Harry's testimony might be his salvation.

It was almost fitting, Severus thought as his body broke out into a cold sweat, as his hands began to shake, even as he forced himself to remain outwardly calm. He took in that day's _Prophet _sitting on Minerva's desk and nearly laughed.

This was merely par for the course of his miserable, little life. The failure he'd thought he felt earlier came down on him like a flood as he saw the stupid half-life he'd been living fall to pieces in front of his eyes. Aside from Harry, there wasn't a damn thing to show for his fifty-six years on this planet. He'd failed to leave Hogwarts, he'd failed as a potions master, he'd failed to protect his charges and even now he was failing to properly raise his children.

And soon he'd have his freedom stripped from him, be thrown into prison where he'd spend the rest of his days. And there was nothing he could possibly do to stop it.

Without a word to Minerva, he trudged towards her Floo, took some powder into his shaking hand, and went home.

Harry was waiting for him in the kitchen, sitting in a chair, his tapping foot revealing his anxiousness. Upon Severus' arrival, he stood up and went to embrace him.

"Did you get them? I called, but Molly wasn't there. She's got the grandchildren at the zoo for the day, but Hermione's coming—in a few minutes...what's wrong?"

"Nothing," Severus said, maneuvering out of Harry's embrace, as he knew he wouldn't be able to leave it once he'd found his way there. He paused at the doorway of the kitchen as he felt Harry stand behind him, the heat of his body a siren call of warmth and comfort. With every ounce of strength, he ignored it and set out to do what was needed. Stumbling out of the kitchen, Severus went to their sitting room, his long strides stunted by his anxiety; Severus imagined he looked like a man suffering from inebriation rather than hysteria. "Where's our bank ledger?" he asked, trying to keep the terror from his voice.

"In my desk," Harry said, and Severus knew Harry was confused as he heard the growing concern in his voice. "Severus, what's happened?"

Not bothering to reply, Severus went to the desk, diving with stumbling fingers into Harry's unorganized mess of folders until he found the ledger. He took a long look at the numbers and began making realistic calculations in his head.

There was no chance of running, he realized. There was hardly anything for him to run _on_, and he wouldn't take a Knut from Harry or the children. As he had already known, there was nothing to do but wait for the Aurors to come.

"Severus, please," Harry said, wrapping his arms around him from behind. "Please tell me what's wrong. Did Minerva misplace the memories?"

Not knowing what to say, his thoughts running in circles even as he began to count down the seconds until the Aurors arrived, Severus took Harry in his arms, succumbing to his crippling need, not able to stand on his own in the face of the end for a second longer.

Cupping his face almost violently, Severus hissed, "Harry, listen to me." Though he was certain Harry knew his feelings, he felt the need to tell him, not willing for this to go unsaid, possibly for the last time. "You have been the one shining light in my life. You gave me hope when I had none, you rescued me from my own despair...you gave me a family. I would have had nothing if it weren't for you."

"Oh, God," Harry whispered, putting his own hands on Severus'. "Severus, what happened? Please, tell me."

"Listen," Severus said with urgency, resting his forehead against Harry's, "you need to encourage Jonathan in his brewing, and don't patronize him when he fails. He'd hate that. He'll most likely sort into Ravenclaw, so you won't have to worry about who will teach—"

"The memories, Severus!" Harry shouted now, his eyes tearing and his voice shaking. "What happened?"

"You need to stop trying so hard with Elizabeth," he said, pulling Harry closer to him in a futile effort at comfort. "She'll be fine. She's strong...like you."

"God..." Harry sobbed, his tears sliding onto Severus' neck. He ran his hands through the softness of Harry's hair, savoring the smell of it and how it felt against his cheek before both their heads turned at the sound of a crash and childish whispers coming from Severus' personal laboratory. With a pained look, Severus released Harry and went to discover what had happened.

Walking into the lab, Severus saw a brightly-colored family portrait hanging on the wall, an overturned cauldron leaking onto the floor, and two guilty-looking children.

Jonathan started first. "Dad, I'm so sorry! I was just helping Beth hang her picture, but I had to stand on the table, and—" he cut off as Severus heard footsteps that told him Harry had entered the room. The eyes of both of the children went wide in fear as they no doubt took in Harry's hastily wiped tears and a face he'd never learned to school into passivity.

The cauldron Jonathan had overturned had held the latest batch of Severus' experimental potion. He'd spent quite a number of Galleons—all that had been saved by penny-pinching—on the ingredients, and had toiled for hours on his calculations.

If this had happened yesterday, Severus would have been furious and would've no doubt grounded Jonathan into his second year at Hogwarts.

Now the situation was laughable.

Even if Lucius hadn't decided that today was the day he'd act on the plan he'd dedicated himself to for a decade, Pearson's success at curing lycanthropy made his potion obsolete, a joke, a futile effort by a foolish man.

He couldn't help himself. He laughed darkly as he took in the ruined potion, hardly noticing how Jonathan and Elizabeth backed away in fear, then took two quick strides to the table and tossed the rest of his efforts to the floor. The sound of metal hitting the wall and glass breaking reverberated through the room before Elizabeth started crying.

By the time he turned around she was in Harry's arms, Jonathan looking as if only sheer force of will kept him from following her.

"Severus," Harry said, clutching Elizabeth to his chest as though she was trying to run from him, "whatever's happened—"

"Harry?" a voice said from the kitchen. "Severus? I'm here."

Silence pervaded as Hermione walked through the house to find them, Harry looking down to the floor, having no idea what to say.

"Harry, I—oh," she said, coming into the room, then took in the mess that had been Severus' lab. "I, um, is everything all right?"

"Kids, take your Aunt Hermione upstairs and play a game with your friends," Harry said, handing Elizabeth over to her while not taking his eyes off Severus.

Realizing this might be the last time he saw the children outside a prison cell, Severus put up a hand. They were terrified enough without a sorrowful goodbye, so Severus gave his kindest smile to Elizabeth and kissed her cheek, then put his hand on Jonathan's shoulder before saying, "I'm not angry at you, son. It was an accident, and I'm sorry if I frightened you."

"It's okay, Dad," Jonathan said, his voice trembling. He gave Severus a brave look before Hermione took them out of the room.

"Severus—"

"Lucius destroyed the memories," Severus said, answering Harry's question at last. Now that he'd said goodbye to Harry and the children, he knew he couldn't stay in the house to be arrested. The idea of being here, having them watch as the Aurors took him away—he wouldn't put them through that.

"He—what?" Harry hissed. "How could he have possibly known—"

"That hardly matters," Severus said, pulling his cloak tighter around him. "I'm leaving. I'm not going to stay here only to let Aurors take me away."

"I'm coming with you," Harry said, Summoning his own cloak. "This doesn't change anything. I'll go with you and give my testimony; there's no way they can convict you."

"You are my husband," Severus said, meeting Harry's eyes, pleading with him not to make this harder. "To them, there has to be something wrong with you to have agreed to marry me, to help Slytherin with me. And Lucius' testimony will be far more damaging."

"But—" Harry started, even as he realized it was true. "What are you going to do?"

"I don't know. But I know I can't wait for them here." Suddenly the kiss Harry had given him earlier seemed far more appropriate. Looking into watery green eyes now, Severus memorized Harry's face, taking in its beauty one last time as a free man, then gathered him into his arms.

"Please don't go," Harry pleaded. "We'll think of something. Please—"

"Not in this house, Harry. The children have to grow up here, you'll have to live here. I won't—not here." And then he kissed Harry for what he feared would be the last time. He put everything he was into it, his arms wrapping around Harry as he thanked him with lips and tongue for everything good in his life.

Then he pulled away, resting his forehead against Harry's as he panted, holding his eyes for a moment longer. As he was leaving, he took notice of the picture Elizabeth had put on the wall. It was well done for an eight-year-old; no stick figures, he noticed, although it seemed Severus' chief characteristic was his nose and Harry's his hair. In a moment of weakness, he took it off the wall, folded it, and stuck it in his pocket.

He left the room without casting a backwards glance at Harry, knowing it would be his undoing if he did so.

Not wanting to use the front door and walk right into the Aurors' arms, he trudged through the house to leave through the back, hearing hurried steps on the stairs as he left.

"Is something wrong with Daddy?" Elizabeth asked, hiccuping through her tears.

"Is he mad about the potion?" Jonathan asked in a small voice.

"No, Jon, he's not mad about the potion," Severus heard Harry say in a voice that was forcing itself to be strong. "Listen, your dad's going away for a little while, but I don't want you to worry about him. He's going to be fine," Harry said, and Severus could hear the lie.

"Is there anything we can do?" Jonathan asked, and Severus felt his broken heart swell with affection at how much the children loved him.

"Pray to God, I suppose," he heard Harry mutter sadly, saying something that no doubt slipped from his lips unintentionally.

"Daddy says there is no God," Elizabeth said.

"Oh," he heard Harry reply, and Severus would have laughed if his life wasn't over. "Well, let's just think good thoughts, then."

He waited for them to go up the stairs, then took one last look at the house he'd made his home, and left.


	6. Chapter 6

I really put my heart and soul into this fic, so I'm grateful to all who read and reviewed. This story was so long in the making, it's odd to think that it's actually done now. Here's the end. I hope you enjoyed it.

* * *

Severus knew the smartest thing to do would be to go to the DMLE, say he had heard they'd wanted to question him, and give himself up. There was even a slight chance that action might help prove his innocence. But as he walked into Hogwarts' grounds, he knew that would simply be walking into the trap Lucius had set for him ten years ago. He'd be damned if he would make it that easy for him.

Instead he spent the next few hours thinking if anything could be done. He walked through the outer areas of the Forbidden Forest even as his body shook in fear and panic, his mind trying to overcome all that was happening and just _think_.

Stopping to rest on a large stone, he put his head in his hands and began to realize exactly what would happen.

The Aurors would find him. He couldn't hide forever, after all. He'd be taken before the Wizengamot and tried for his crimes as a Death Eater, and the public would call for his head.

He remembered his last trial, when Albus had spoken for him, defended him and told the Wizengamot of how he'd aided the Order in the first war. But Albus wasn't here now. His great defender was gone, and Severus wondered now whether the memories would have made a difference in the first place.

He could imagine Harry speaking in his defense, perhaps Minerva and a few others as well. But there was no real evidence that he'd helped anyone before the Final Battle, only memories of training Harry that wouldn't stand up against Lucius' testimony. He'd been an excellent spy, after all, leaving no evidence of his efforts.

And even the Final Battle itself... he could imagine Lucius arguing that Severus had switched allegiances once he discovered which side would be victorious. Everything was so neat and clear, Lucius couldn't ask for his prosecution to be any easier.

They'd take him to Azkaban, and he prayed Harry wouldn't bring the children there. He put his head in his hands as he imagined seeing them from behind bars, their terrified faces looking at him as Dementors passed by. He knew exactly what that would do to them. No, he thought, it wouldn't come to that. He'd tell Harry to keep them away from prison, even if that meant...

He'd never see them again, he realized, and his heart ached even as a small part of him wondered if they'd be better off.

And Harry... He could already see Harry visiting him every weekend, not giving up hope that he could somehow deliver Severus from his prison. Though it had surprised him day after day, Severus had no doubt that Harry loved him and was endlessly loyal to him. He would stay by Severus' side, even as he diminished, as the Dementors destroyed his mind and his soul with his most terrible memories, until there was nothing left but a shell.

He hardly noticed when it began to rain, the freezing water pelting Severus even through the dense canopy of trees. He rather thought it fit that it was raining, as it had been all those years ago when he'd come to Hogwarts expecting to die.

But there was no savior this time. There was only Severus and a future he couldn't bear to contemplate.

Suddenly, a thought occurred to him, a white streak flashing through the dark forest of his mind. Shaking with fear and cold, he got to his feet, leaving the Forest and walking towards the lake. He knew now what he had to do, what his only recourse would be.

The Wizengamot had the power to destroy Severus' life, but they'd be destroying his family along with it. He knew Harry wouldn't stay away from Azkaban, and the toll that would take on him and the children would be devastating.

Approaching the edge of the lake, Severus realized he had the power to stop that, the power to save Harry and Jonathan and Elizabeth from suffering further.

The rain soaked through his robes, leaving his hair lying flat against his face as he stared into the deep, dark water of the lake. He'd never considered taking his own life before, not even when he had lived in despair before Harry had returned to Hogwarts. He hadn't understood why anyone would possibly want to commit suicide, the ultimate act of selfishness.

But this act wouldn't be selfish. This would be done from the desire to spare those he loved from even more pain. He looked down into the water once more, his boot meeting the edge of it, and made his decision.

Lightning flashed through the sky, the water becoming harsh and choppy in the storm, and Severus took his first step into the lake. He called up memories he wanted to take with him into darkness: Harry on their wedding day, the day Jonathan had come into their home, the day Elizabeth had run into his cloak.

Holding back the thought of how much he'd miss them—knowing that line of thinking would weaken his resolve—Severus advanced into the water, his head up and arms at his side, readying himself to die. His mind's eye was picturing Harry with a broad smile on his face when suddenly a flash of lightning revealed a boy on a broom flying through the storm.

Looking up into the sky, Severus saw the rider—no doubt a student who'd stayed over the holiday—fight against the wind and rain, then take a plunge not three feet from where Severus was standing.

"Idiot!" Severus hissed, pulling himself from the darkness so he could save the moron, and waded into the water after him. How the boy knew this area of the lake was shallow three feet in, Severus had no idea, but he pulled him up by his collar and dragged him to the edge of the bank.

"Flying during a thunderstorm," Severus muttered, his shaking hands grasping a black and yellow robe bearing a badge with a badger. "Stupid Hufflepuff, you'll catch your death out here."

With a strength Severus hadn't credited, the boy shook off his grip and walked the rest of the way to dry land. With broom in hand, the boy looked up and grinned, then said, "Hello, Professor Snape! I'm here to help you."

With a groan, Severus looked across the grounds, first to see if any Aurors had come to Hogwarts to search for him, then for Hagrid's hut. Casting aside his plans with great reluctance, he grabbed the Hufflepuff by his collar and began walking towards shelter. "Stupid boy. You're the one out riding a broom through lightning. You'll catch your death if you don't get out of this cold."

"That's a bit unlikely," the boy said, but walked with Severus to the hut regardless. Upon reaching it, Severus knocked on the door and waited for a response. He'd leave the boy with Hagrid, he thought, then determine what he would do from there. He had no desire to kill himself with a student looking on, and now that his mind was somewhat clearer, he knew he couldn't allow any child to see his body dragged from the lake.

A moment passed and there was no answer. Realizing that the freezing rain must be chilling the boy to the bone, Severus took it upon himself to enter Hagrid's cabin, and started a fire.

Grabbing hold of his irritation, Severus pushed all other thoughts aside as he dealt with the student. "Care to tell me why you were out in a thunderstorm, boy?" he asked, venom in every word. "Or are the colors you're wearing explanation enough?"

A quick search of the cabin revealed a few blankets, and Severus tossed them at his charge before casting a drying spell on both of them. He stoked the fire and set about making tea, or whatever passed for tea to Hagrid.

Tea brewing, he sat down on a stool and put his head in his hands. He'd make sure the boy wouldn't freeze to death, wait out the storm, send him back to the castle and figure out what he'd do from there. He could only hope the Aurors wouldn't find him by then.

Looking up, he noticed the boy was grinning at him with an odd enthusiasm, and though he knew he was a student, Severus couldn't immediately put a name to the face.

"I'm so happy to be here, Professor Snape," the boy said. "I don't want you to worry a bit. I might be new at this, but I'm very eager to help you. Everything's going to be all right."

Ignoring the idiot's words, Severus took in the rest of him, searching his mind for a name. He was undoubtedly a seventh year, but his robes were odd, nothing like Severus had seen, at least for a very long time. And the broom he still carried was...magnificent, even to Severus' eyes. If Harry were here he'd no doubt be asking for its specs, and, storm or no storm, begging for a ride.

And yet his face looked familiar.

"What's your name, boy?" he asked, curious now.

The grin increased and the boy asked, "Don't you remember me, Professor? I'm Cedric Diggory."

Thunder crashed dramatically, and the tea kettle began to whistle while Severus searched the boy's face for the truth.

"Cedric Diggory has been dead for over twenty years," he said, then stood to pour the tea. "Whatever prank you're playing, it isn't wise to make light of the dead...especially not with me."

The boy who was not Diggory smiled and said, "It's me, Professor, I promise. Oh, and no tea. Don't need it."

Slamming down the pot, Severus turned to not-Diggory and took him in, trying to remember the last time he'd seen Diggory before he died. To his surprise, the image wasn't a difficult one to recall. That had been a very important day, after all. He could see, even now, Harry shouting the Dark Lord's return as he stood guard over Diggory's body.

"You're even wearing his robes," Severus said, looking the Hufflepuff uniform up and down. Great pains had been taken to ensure they were exactly as Severus recalled, not a splatter of blood, but grass stains from shoulder to waist. "Those were the robes he wore for the last challenge of the Triwizard Tournament."

"Well, I didn't have a lot of time to be fitted for new ones before you tried to kill yourself," Diggory said, his voice nonchalant even as Severus' heart skipped a beat.

Was it possible that Diggory's ghost haunted the lake and no one had discovered it until now? No, that was impossible, Severus thought as his trembling hands clenched from the memory of grasping the boy's robes. "I don't know what you're talking about, but it would be wise to end this charade now," he said, searching his mind for an answer to the mystery standing in front of him.

"Professor," the impostor said, rising from his seat, "we don't have a lot of time. This would go so much easier if you would just trust that I am who I say I am, okay?" At Severus' continued silence, he sighed and said, "On my last Potions' assignment you wrote 'Acceptable for a Hufflepuff, but your handwriting looks as though an owl attempted to nest in the ink.' Remember?"

Barking out a dark laugh, Severus said, "You want me to remember what I wrote on an essay twenty years ago?"

Another sigh, then Cedric said, "Okay, I guess you don't really need to believe me for me to help you. Look," he said, then stepped closer to Severus, "I'm here to tell you you can't kill yourself. I don't know how, but I think all of this is going to work out in the end."

Baring his teeth, Severus seethed. How dare this boy think he could say anything about his life? And though he'd been standing on the edge of the lake, how could he have possibly known he'd meant to kill himself?

"Okay, I can see this isn't going to work." With what seemed like regret, the boy said, "When you were twelve, you stopped Professor Slughorn from poisoning a bunch of sick kids with a botched potion."

A chill ran down Severus' spine that had nothing to do with the cold. He had nearly forgotten that had ever happened. That event had taken place over forty years ago, and he had never told a soul about it.

"How—"

"Because I just spent the last few hours getting to know you. You've had a very, er, interesting life, to say the least."

"That's putting it mildly," Severus said as he looked on this person with new eyes. "I never told anyone about that," he said as his freezing hands clutched his tea cup.

"I know," Diggory said, "that's why I said it. I knew you'd have to believe me. I've been sent to help you."

Reaching out, Severus made contact with Diggory's shoulder, his fingers pressing into the yellow wool of his robe. This was certainly not a ghost he was speaking to, and yet Severus had never heard of spirits being able to return from the dead to help the living. He had either gone mad, which was possible, or he was experiencing something unheard of. "You're not a ghost?"

"I'm a Guardian," Diggory said cheerfully. "I'm _your_ Guardian, actually, sent to help you. So, if we could get to the helping—"

Throwing back his head, Severus gave a long sigh. "It would figure I'd have a Hufflepuff as a guardian angel."

"Um, I'm not an angel, Professor. I'm Cedric. Cedric Diggory? Professor Dumbledore sent me here to help you. He saw what was happening and he's really concerned—"

"Albus?" Severus asked, cutting Diggory off and taking an enormous leap of faith in accepting he was who he said he was. "He sent you to aid me?"

"Yes," Diggory said with relief, putting down his broom and looking like he was greeting an old friend.

"Did he tell you about the memories?" Severus asked even as he forcibly kept optimism at bay, his heart whispering a prayer that his oldest friend could somehow help him. "Did he have something else hidden somewhere? Anything?"

"Um..."

"Did he give you any instructions?" Severus asked, not caring that he was making a fool of himself, pleading to a boy who'd been dead for twenty years. "Is there anything that can keep me from Azkaban?"

"I'm here to tell you that you can't kill yourself," Diggory said softly. "That your life is worth living and that you'll hurt so many people if you just give up."

Severus barked out a laugh as he sank into one of Hagrid's chairs. Trust Albus to send a soul down to aid him with no actual aid. "You might have saved yourself a trip, Mr. Diggory. I can assure you, the life I have in front of me is certainly not worth living—neither to me or to those I love."

"You can't think that," Diggory said, kneeling in front of Severus' chair. "Can you imagine what it would do to Harry if you killed yourself? Or your kids?"

"Yes," Severus said, as he imagined his own funeral. The press would call him a coward and a villain, and he could already imagine Harry standing over his coffin. As much as it still surprised him, he knew Harry loved him and his death would be painful for him. But a life spent in Azkaban would only draw that pain out for years, when it could be dealt with now. "I won't force him to visit me in Azkaban. He deserves...so much better than what I've given him."

There was silence for a moment, and Severus contemplated the fire and what he would do now. He was considering going into the Forbidden Forest when Diggory said, "Do you have any idea how much Harry loves you? It was an amazing thing to watch. You have no idea—"

"I know exactly how much he loves me," Severus said, thinking this was none of Albus' or Diggory's business. In a small voice, he admitted, "It's difficult to ignore. And because of that love, that devotion, I will not force him to mourn me for the next ten or twenty or however many years I live in prison." He swallowed around a lump in his throat as he considered Harry's life and what he wanted for him, how much better off he would have been without Severus. "At least this way he could move on, find someone else."

Diggory snorted and said, "Not bloody likely. I doubt there's anyone else for him, after you. And the children? There's no substituting a father, even if Harry were to find someone else."

That, at least, was true, Severus thought. Even if he'd been a poor father, his children would miss him. How he hated that Lucius was able to hurt his family through him.

"I suppose you're right," Severus said, and from the corner of his eye, saw Diggory cheer. "Regardless of my actions, my family will suffer." With a laugh he had a sudden realization and said, "Perhaps it would have been better if I had never met Harry. Then all of this would only be happening to me."

"Well, you 'met' when he was eleven years old. Or, if you want to think of it another way, seventeen."

With a scoff, Severus was forced to admit Diggory was right. If he were to truly remove his influence from Harry's life, he'd have to go back much further. Before their family, before their romance, before the Victory Ball. Even before he'd betrayed Lily.

And suddenly it occurred to him. "I believe you're right, Diggory. It would have been far better for all involved if I had never been born."

Thunder crashed and Diggory rose to his feet. "Oh, come on. You helped with the war—both of them—and you've helped hundreds of students. Of course it wouldn't be—" he cut off and looked to the ceiling, appearing to hear voices that were inaudible to Severus. "What do you mean?" he asked no one. "No, I don't think I need any help, I can—wait...that's possible?" Lifting an eyebrow, Severus watched as Diggory frowned at the roof beams, then nodded. "Really? Well, if you're sure. Okay." Then he looked to Severus and said, "Are you sure it would be better if you hadn't been born?"

Severus thought of his pitiful little life, of over forty years spent at Hogwarts, of professional failures and even his betrayal of Lily. He thought of how much pain he'd bring to Harry's life, regardless of whether he killed himself or spent the rest of his days in Azkaban. He thought of Jonathan and Elizabeth, both innocents who would be marked by the Snape name for the rest of their days.

"Yes," he said, the word uttered in a voice so low it could barely be heard above the rain. "I have accomplished nothing with my useless, pathetic life, except bring pain to those I love. Yes, it would have been far better if I had never been born."

Diggory sighed and lowered his head, crossing his arms over his chest. With great reluctance, he said, "All right, Professor Snape. You've never been born."

Another crash of thunder sounded through the air, shaking the hut and startling the men within it. "I never really knew the headmaster in life. Was he always this dramatic?" Diggory asked.

"What just happened?" Severus responded, standing up and feeling as though something had changed. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but he knew he felt different somehow.

"You got your wish," Diggory said. "You've never been born."

"Albus Dumbledore might have been an extremely powerful wizard," Severus said with a snort, thinking now that he was wasting time better spent making plans, "but no one can alter reality. Not in that way."

Diggory shrugged, a guilty look on his face, and said, "I don't know what he's capable of, really. Especially from up there." He pointed to the ceiling once again and frowned.

"Well," Severus said, gathering himself to leave, "I suppose I can tell him myself shortly what a waste this has been, assuming heaven is where I'm destined." He reached for his wand to put out the fire, but quickly found it wasn't in his pocket. A thorough search of his robes revealed it wasn't on his person at all.

"Looking for something?" Diggory asked, his expression serious.

Severus searched the floor by the fire, then the counter space where he'd made the tea, though he had never once misplaced his wand in his life. Not since the day he'd set foot on the Hogwarts Express, becoming an instant target of Potter and Black.

"I seem to have misplaced my wand," he admitted, thinking perhaps Diggory had taken it.

"No, you didn't. You never had a wand," he replied sadly. "You never went to Ollivander's to buy one."

Biting his lip, Severus closed his eyes and concentrated, then tried to Summon his wand. When it didn't come to him, he frowned and began to worry. "Ever since the war..." he said, his words drifting off when he realized Diggory was still listening. He'd been able to Summon his wand since the war and had taught Harry to do the same.

"What have you done with it?" he finally asked, hating that he was at such a disadvantage. Though he was still intent on taking his life, he had no desire to die without his wand by his side.

"Nothing," Diggory said, and Severus was inclined to believe him. "I swear. You got your wish, sir. You've never been born. You really don't have a wand."

He would have laughed if what Diggory was proposing wasn't so ridiculous. Not wishing to have an argument with a spirit, Severus looked around for his wand for a few moments longer, once again attempting to Summon it with similar results.

"What are you going to do with a wand?" Diggory asked after a few minutes of frustrated silence. "I mean, you were planning on killing yourself. You don't really need a wand to do that."

"I thought you were here to stop me from doing just that," Severus said, straining to move one of Hagrid's armchairs.

"That's what I'm doing, er, what Professor Dumbledore is doing."

Panting, Severus stopped his search. Though he felt as though a piece of him were missing, he didn't have the time to try and find his wand. The Aurors were still coming for him, and if he didn't move quickly he would find himself in their custody.

The lake was no longer a possibility, and Severus had no desire to be slowly eaten by some beast in the Forbidden Forest. Realizing there were a number of potions in Hogwarts that would kill a man if mixed, he made his decision.

He'd go into his old rooms, allow himself a few moments to reminisce through the early days of his and Harry's romance, and let his body shut down. An elf-delivered note to Minerva would ensure no student would find him, and that would be the end of it. It would be a fitting end, Severus thought darkly. Hogwarts had been his own personal prison, after all. It made sense it would all end there.

Without a word to Diggory, Severus picked himself up, moved the various pieces of furniture back where he'd found them, and left the cabin.

The storm had died down. He was grateful for that much, but it also meant that the Aurors would have a much easier time finding him as well. Quickly, he began the long walk to Hogwarts, forcing his thoughts back to Harry and the children, and away from this odd thing that had just happened to him.

"So are you still planning on killing yourself?" Diggory asked, easily keeping up with Severus' long strides.

"Whatever I plan on doing is my own business, not anyone else's, and certainly not yours," Severus said, walking faster, praying he'd have time to once again make peace with what he was doing before he was interrupted. "I do not wish to have an audience. Go haunt someone else, idiot Hufflepuff."

"I'm not a ghost," Diggory said from Severus' side. "I'm a—"

"If you're truly some specter with powers far beyond what wizards are capable of, then perhaps you could turn back time and render Abraxas Malfoy impotent so his son never exists," Severus shouted, exhausted in body and soul, terrified of what he knew he must do. Diggory gave him a sad stare and Severus spun around, then raced up the stairs towards the Entrance Hall, every step feeling as though his legs would give out.

Ignoring Diggory, knowing that he might have only moments, Severus quickly walked the rest of the way to the staircase leading to the dungeons, his mind already readying himself for the end.

His steps slowed as he followed the familiar path to the dungeon stairway, his eyes playing tricks on him as he approached. He squinted, blaming the illusion as a play of light, amazed when his feet landed on the place the staircase should have been, only to find it filled in, new bricks standing out, proclaiming its destruction.

"The Board of Governors," Diggory said softly, his steps light as he slowly walked towards Severus. "After the war, when Lucius Malfoy passed his proposal to dissolve Slytherin, they filled in the dungeons." Severus stared at what had been the staircase he'd taken nearly every day for over forty years of his life. Leaning down, he touched the brick, simply to assure himself it was real, that he wasn't hallucinating. His legs gave way at the shock of what he was seeing, his hands falling onto the brick and scraping his palm.

"This wasn't here before the holidays," he said, not bothering to turn to Diggory. The brick was freezing cold and he felt its chill travel up his arm. "This is new, this is—"

"This has been in place for nearly twenty years," Diggory insisted. "It's been almost twenty years since Professor Dumbledore died and Slytherin lost its only defender."

Shaking his head, Severus asked in a whisper, "What have you done?"

"I told you, Professor. You were never born. You weren't around to save Slytherin, so Slytherin wasn't saved."

His plans forgotten, Severus crossed the hallway and walked into the Great Hall, stopping short at the sight of only three long student tables. Adrenaline fueled his steps as he ignored the ache in his body, looking away from the lie and making his way to the house counters.

Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were there, but Slytherin was noticeable only by its absence.

"You see? Don't you see how much good you did for the school? All those years of tradition, all the—"

"What have you done?" Severus asked, spinning around and grabbing Diggory by the collar of his robes. The smell of grass and sweat and late-spring outdoors invaded his senses in the dead of winter, and Severus' fear multiplied.

"I did what you asked," Diggory insisted. "You were never born."

Severus shook his head. "No wizard has that kind of power, alive or dead. And if Albus was capable of such a thing, what of the Dark Lord or any other dark wizard—"

"You don't have to worry about that just now," Diggory said, not seeming to mind at all that his shirt was cutting into the flesh of his neck. "Don't you understand? You've been given a great gift. Just an hour ago you tried to kill yourself, and now you'll get to see what the world would have been like without you. Isn't it amazing?"

Looking around the Great Hall, Severus thought the situation he was in was anything but amazing. The loss of that last, great table screamed at him and he wondered how Diggory could possibly be doing this.

"Have you Confunded me?" he asked, even as he knew that couldn't be the truth. He was the most powerful Occlumens alive; there was no way a long-dead Hufflepuff could control his mind. "Is this...some sort of charm? A mind-control spell?"

"No," Diggory said, putting his hands over Severus'. "This is what the world would be like without you. Don't you see..." he said with a sigh, as though he only then realized his words were falling on deaf ears. Turning to the farthest corner, he pointed and said, "Look."

In the darkest corner of the room stood a small, round table. It was shorter than the other tables in the Hall, and sectioned off as though only the most undesirable of students were placed there. Severus' face fell as his mind realized what he was seeing.

"The students, the ones that were sorted into Slytherin, were kept there for their first year," Diggory said, his voice soft as he took in Severus' expression. "The Board thought it best if they were put into a sort of probation so the professors could decide what house they should go into."

Slowly, Severus began the long walk to the table, his hands and legs shaking as though his body couldn't handle what his mind refused to. With caution and disbelief, he laid his hands on one of the chairs, needing to feel it was real in order to believe it.

"How—" he whispered, not able to comprehend what had been done to his students. "What did they do to them?"

"If the Board didn't know what it was doing, I'm sure Malfoy did," Diggory sighed. "It was exactly like you said: a generation of children was destroyed with the decision to end Slytherin. Only...it wasn't just one generation."

Severus didn't think he could feel any colder, but the hair on his neck stood on end at what he thought Diggory meant. "Every year?"

He nodded. "Every Slytherin sorted goes into probation every year. Every year the first years are kept to their own little dormitory, their own classes before they're resorted." He was silent as he looked to the sky again, Severus still not knowing what he was seeing. "Do you have any idea what it's like for them when they're put into other houses?"

Severus remained silent, his hands still firmly planted on the table.

"They're pariahs. All of them," Diggory said. "It's impossible for them to make any friends, and their school work suffered...terribly. The Board of Governors made sure that every Slytherin was treated just like you said, like a second-class citizen. It ruined most of them—"

"What are you doing here?" a familiar voice asked, and Severus was pulled from the darkness of his thoughts as he whirled around. "Who are you?"

Standing up straight, he felt his breath leave him in a rush as he found himself fixed by Minerva McGonagall's glare.

"Oh, hello," Diggory said in what was no doubt an attempt at innocence. "We were just—"

"Who are you, boy?" she asked, her voice much sterner and gruffer than Severus could remember. He looked at her in dismay as he took in the changes. This wasn't the woman who'd been his friend and colleague for thirty years, the woman he'd seen only a few hours ago. Her face bore far more lines than he recalled, and eyes that had always been stern looked cold and dead.

Perhaps sensing he wouldn't be able to smile his way out of this, Diggory put one hand in his pocket, then threw his broom over his shoulder. "We were just looking around. We'll be leaving now—"

She had her wand on them in an instant. "Not until you tell me who you are. Both of you. And why you," she pointed her wand at Diggory, "are wearing Hufflepuff robes when I know you aren't a student here." Severus watched as she squinted at Diggory as he had earlier, trying to remember the name that went with the face.

"A cousin," Diggory said, the lie sounding far smoother than it had any right to, "gave them to me. I just wanted to see his old school. This is my...father. We were just looking around, but we'll be leaving now."

Her eyes were like slits as she took in Diggory, then turned to Severus.

There was no recognition there. It was as though she truly didn't know him, as though she hadn't known him since he was eleven. Not able to help himself, he asked, his voice sounding lost, "Minerva?"

"Do I know you, sir?" she asked, her wand never lowering.

"I—"

"From your great reputation, no doubt," Diggory said, grabbing Severus by the shoulder and forcing him to move. He nearly tripped over his feet, unable to take his eyes off Minerva's face. He couldn't fathom it, how it was possible...

"I'll see you to the door," she said, taking a step back as Diggory ushered him through the door of the Great Hall, then outside.

His thoughts in turmoil, Severus attempted to clear his mind, to throw off whatever it was that had been done to him, then looked back. Minerva's stern look never faltered, and he still saw no recognition in her eyes.

The door closed behind them with an empty bang, and Severus let himself fall back against it.

"How is it possible—"

"That she doesn't know you?" Diggory asked, leaning his shoulder against the door. "You were never born. You were never a student here, you never taught here. All evidence of your tenure has been erased. There's no Slytherin, no colleagues you pretend to hate..."

"Minerva has always been a formidable woman," he said, his breath coming out in pants. "She's always been...harsh, but not like that. Not like that," he said, knowing he was repeating himself, but not able to comprehend what he had just seen.

"She's had a hard life," Diggory whispered. "She cared for the Slytherins just as much as you did, but she wasn't able to protect them. Do you know how hard it is for her? To see those kids suffer year in and year out, unable to do anything to help them?"

Severus shook his head, incapable of understanding what was happening.

"It destroyed her. Don't you see, Professor Snape? Things would have been so much worse if you hadn't been around."

"And you? She didn't know you."

"You didn't either, at least not until I told you my name. It's been twenty years, after all."

Running his fingers through his hair with a shaking hand, Severus attempted to throw off his panic, knowing he had to focus his mind if he was to cast off whatever had been done to him.

"I don't know how you've managed to accomplish...such an elaborate hoax," he said, testing the strength of his legs and starting for the steps. "But even Albus can't affect an entire world. Whatever you've done, it can't be total. No one has that kind of power."

"Oh, for the love of—look, you've been given a great gift! Instead of poking it with a stick, maybe you could actually walk around a bit. See what the world would have been like if it weren't for you." Diggory sighed, then looked to the sky with a nod. "Why don't we go in to Hogsmeade?"

"And give the Aurors the gift of my person?" Severus said with a scoff, though now that the dungeons were closed, he had no idea where he would go next.

"There are no Aurors hunting you. Not now. You were never born, you never committed any crime. Come on, Professor," Diggory said, grabbing his shoulder and steering him towards the road to Hogsmeade. "Let's go into town. See all that's changed."

Not knowing what else to do, his mind still in a daze, Severus allowed himself to be manhandled, quietly walking the path next to Diggory.

"Gosh, I'd almost forgotten how beautiful this place was," Diggory said, turning around as they walked, seeming to take it all in. Severus frowned, eyes wandering over the gray sky, the below-freezing weather and dead grass. "I mean, you kind of forget how great the world is when you're in Paradise—"

"So there is an afterlife," Severus stated aloud. "You've no doubt ascended to a place for heroes, I imagine."

"Oh, um," Diggory seemed to flounder and hoisted his broom higher. "I suppose I shouldn't be talking about that."

Curious now, despite whether Diggory was exactly what he said he was, Severus asked, "What manner of angel has to fly around on a broom?"

"I'm not an angel, I'm—"

"A Guardian," Severus sighed, his body exhausted from stress and panic as he walked the familiar path to Hogsmeade. "_My_ Guardian."

"Oh, right. About that. Um—"

"What?"

"I'm not _exactly_ a Guardian. Not yet," he said, scuffing up the back of his hair. "This is like a test and if I do well then—"

"Oh, Merlin," Severus groaned, and threw his head back to address the sky. "Even in death, Albus..."

"Look, I know I can do this," Diggory said. "And I have an incentive. If I help you I'll earn my wings and I can retire this here." He gestured to his broom.

"Yes, I imagine it's difficult to play Quidditch without wings."

"You have no idea," Diggory groaned, and Severus nearly laughed at the ridiculous predicament he was in.

He'd nearly recovered from the shock he'd received at Hogwarts when he walked onto the main road of Hogsmeade. The town didn't look so different from the one he'd left this morning, but there were a few things that stuck out.

"That pub wasn't there before," Severus said, noticing the seedy-looking establishment with wonder, both because it had appeared out of thin air and because Hogsmeade didn't welcome such dark places on its main road.

"It was constructed to meet with demand," Diggory said, his voice taking on its dark tone again. "Nearly half of all students sorted into Slytherin leave Hogwarts before their seventh year. A lot of them end up here...drifting."

Still unsure of exactly what was happening, Severus walked to the pub, his steps quicker and more certain than they had been, eager to find some flaw, something that would prove this wasn't real.

Walking through the door, he took in the offensive smell of cheap beer and smoke, saw men sitting in dark corners and scantily-clad women serving them drinks.

No longer caring how ridiculous he might appear, Severus turned and looked back out the door, confirming he was actually on the main road of Hogsmeade, then entered the pub.

As far as hoaxes went, this was an elaborate one, Severus was forced to admit. Though still doubting any of this was real, Severus attempted to blend in with the shadows, finding it easy enough to do in a place so dark. Glancing around for signs of law enforcement, Severus patted his pockets but found no change for a drink. He turned to Diggory to tell him they should leave, when suddenly his throat tightened upon noticing the man behind the bar.

"Mr. Kinsey," Severus said before he could stop himself, and went for his wand to Disapparate before he realized he'd lost it. The boy who'd stood his ground against Lucius Malfoy was behind the bar, looking tired and defeated, when he should have been climbing over it to arrest Severus.

"Do I know you?" Kinsey asked, and Severus took in his stained clothing and the fatigue in his stance. This boy had been one of the first to trump Lucius, excelling at his NEWTs and going on to become an Auror. When Severus began to realize he wasn't about to be arrested, he stood bewildered at the changes he was seeing.

"No," Severus said, a new chill running through him as his old student glared at him, still not understanding how any of this was happening. Whatever Albus had done, it extended to his former students as well.

"Well, you want a drink or not? I don't enjoy people staring at me, you know?"

"We were just leaving," Diggory said, once again grabbing Severus by the arm and ushering him to the door. "Sorry to bother you."

"That boy," Severus said, as he stumbled out of the pub, "that man...is an Auror. He should have been fastening my hands, not serving drinks in a shady pub."

"Kinsey was one of the first to be sorted after Slytherin was destroyed," Diggory said as they stood in the middle of the road. "All the students were deemed too dangerous to teach Potions or Defense, and...well, you can see what happened to him. To all of them."

"How are you doing this?" Severus asked in a hiss, needing to know how any of this was possible.

Diggory gave a long-suffering sigh and said, "You were never born. Look around you. Was any of Hogsmeade like this when you woke up this morning?"

No, Severus thought as he scanned the road. There were other things he noticed now, things he hadn't seen before. The town had a different air about it, something more desperate, more squalid.

"One man can't make such a difference," Severus said in disbelief. "That alone tells me this is some elaborate ruse. And Slytherin..." He turned to Diggory, the glaring yellow of his robes standing out in stark contrast to Severus' eyes. "Slytherin would survive. The students would find a way. It wouldn't fail, not like this," he said, even as his thoughts ran back to that day when Lucius had made his first attempt to destroy Slytherin. Children were strong, especially those in his house, but not that strong.

He'd always known he was the only thing standing between Slytherin and destruction, and yet seeing evidence of what he'd feared for so long struck him with a fierce blow.

"What if Professor Dumbledore hadn't been born?" Diggory asked, shifting his broom on his shoulder again. "Who would have defeated Grindelwald? Who would have stood against Voldemort all those years? One man can make a great difference, Professor."

"A great man, yes," Severus said, massaging his temples as Diggory's words brought back feelings that had been lingering on the surface. The failure and disappointment, forgotten in his panic, came back to the forefront as Diggory's words echoed in his mind. "I am most certainly not a great man. Not even close."

Diggory sighed and leaned against his broom. "You couldn't be more wrong, you know. You just can't see it because of all that's happened to you, all the obstacles. But you are a great man, Professor. Just take a look around you," he said, waving his arms around. People stopped and stared at them, but Diggory paid no notice. "Look at this place, look how it's changed. Doesn't it mean anything to you?"

Severus scoffed and started walking down the street, unsure of where he was going but knowing he would find a flaw in Albus' illusion if he kept looking.

The buildings were more or less the same, he thought, as he passed Honeydukes and Zonko's and the little cafes students liked to frequent. But then he would spot a pub that hadn't been there the day before and an apothecary that looked less than reputable. He said nothing though his anxiety grew, wanting the illusion to end but also knowing he'd be arrested as soon as it did.

And still he couldn't shake the strange feeling. It was something niggling in the back of his mind, some instinct left over from his days as a spy, something which told him that something had happened to the world—to Severus himself—and had left it askew.

"What do you need to see, Professor?" Diggory asked some moments later. "Just tell me how I can help you and I will."

"No lie is absolute," Severus muttered, continuing his walk down the street, stopping in front of an old church and clenching his jaw in frustration. Suddenly, the wind picked up, tossing Severus' hair into his face. "I will find it and when I do—" His voice faltered as he took in a copy of the _Prophet_ that was stuck in the iron fence of the churchyard, and noticed a picture flapping in the wind.

He'd seen that face earlier today, but it hadn't looked like this. With a growing fear, he leaned down and removed the paper from where it was tangled, taking great care not to destroy the article.

_Child Murderer Dies in Azkaban_

_Horace Slughorn, who murdered seven children in 1972, died today after forty-five years of incarceration in..._

He scanned the rest of the article, then took in the picture that had drawn his attention in the first place. It looked as though it had been taken at a trial, Horace looking exactly as Severus remembered in his youth. The picture showed him screaming as he was taken away from a courtroom in chains, the faces of the Wizengamot, who had no doubt just convicted him, looking vicious as they watched.

"This didn't happen," Severus whispered, unable to remove his eyes from the image. "Horace never killed anyone. I was there. I—"

"You couldn't stop him," Diggory said, taking the paper from Severus' hands and looking at the image himself. "You weren't there to stop him from killing those kids. No one was there. No one else wanted to spend their holiday making potions. Just you."

"No..." Severus said, his thoughts taking him back to that day, how terrified he'd been of his professor, of earning his ire and losing the place where he'd known he had belonged. "He was upset. His son had just died, but he didn't—"

"Seven kids died that day, Professor. Kids that would have lived if you had been there to help Professor Slughorn see he'd made a mistake. Don't you see?" He turned the paper around in his hands, folding it back to reveal the front page headline. "Isn't this enough yet?"

_Department of Magical Games and Sports Loses Bid to Host Next Quidditch World Cup_

Severus grabbed the paper, checking the date—January 8th—before searching the remaining pages for the real headline.

"What are you looking for, Professor?"

"Don't patronize me," he spat out, thumbing through the pages, searching for the article declaring Pearson's success in curing lycanthropy, or evidence that the paper was a fake. "You know exactly what I'm looking for."

"It never happened," Diggory said softly.

Throwing the paper to the ground, Severus closed the distance between their faces and shouted, "Pearson Pharmaceuticals cured lycanthropy! It was in today's paper! You can't erase over a decade of research—"

"Pearson Pharmaceuticals has been running in circles for the past decade, trying to find a cure," Diggory said, completely unaffected by Severus' shouting or the way he loomed over him with an unspoken threat. "They haven't found one yet because..." his words cut off as he looked past the churchyard to the cemetery in the back. With a roll of his shoulders, he pushed Severus away, then grabbed him by the elbow to pull him past the gate to the back of the church.

The wind howled and sent Severus' hair flying into his face as he scanned the grounds, noticing there were a few more headstones than there had been the last time he'd passed by. He walked past a vacant spot, following Diggory to a piece of earth that held a few stones, all of them covered by fallen bramble. Not able to cast a warming charm, he pulled his cloak closer around him, the sense memory forcing him to close his eyes and recall the touch of Harry wrapping it around him that morning.

His thoughts were disturbed by Diggory, who had to shout in order to be heard above the wind. "A thing like lycanthropy can't be cured by one man. It takes a team, Professor. Whether you realized it or not, you were part of that team...and so was Draco Malfoy."

The wind rushed by his ears, filling him with dread, as he realized what they were doing in the graveyard.

"Draco Malfoy was murdered by his father at the age of eighteen!" Diggory cried out into the wind. "He never married. He didn't live long enough to father any children—"

"That's a lie!" Severus shouted, his body shaking in rage and in fear. "Draco Malfoy is a hero! He helped create the cure for lycanthropy! He saved Harry's life during the—"

"Draco wasn't there to save Harry because you weren't there to save Draco!"

The cold January air swirled around him as Severus felt all the breath leave his body. He no longer had the freedom to doubt the world Diggory and Albus had somehow warped, not now, not if what Diggory was saying was at all possible.

Grim, grey eyes met his, and Diggory leaned down to remove some of the bramble covering the headstone. Memories of Harry plagued Severus' mind, his thoughts returning to the Final Battle, of what might have happened if he hadn't been there. No longer having the luxury of assuming this was all an illusion, Severus asked, "But what happened to—" Harry's name died on his lips as Diggory uncovered the stone.

There, underneath a small etching of a phoenix, was the name 'Draco Malfoy' and the years '1980 to 1998.'

Seveus shook his head, reaching out to touch the stone, needing to know it was true, that he hadn't gone mad, that all of this was really happening. Thoughts of Draco, someone he'd been proud to call his friend, flashed before his eyes: hundreds of lunches over a dozen years, play dates with their children, the satisfaction of having a colleague whose conversation always engaged him.

"Every man's life touches so many others. If you take one person from the world, it leaves a space. But yours, Professor...yours has left an awful hole, hasn't it?"

It _wasn't_ possible, Severus told himself, knowing that if this was really happening, that meant Harry would be dead as well.

"The Dark Lord..." Severus started, his heart beating madly as he tried to phrase the question, the answer to which he most feared. "If Draco wasn't there, then Harry—"

Something occurred to him, something that he hadn't thought of while he tried to convince himself that none of this was real. There were some mistakes that no amount of magic could erase, stains that couldn't be washed away, sins that always left a mark. Slowly and with great fear, Severus held his breath, then took the left sleeve of his robe in hand and rolled up the cuff.

His eyes went wide as he took in his forearm, unblemished by the Dark Mark.

It had been nearly forty years since he'd last seen his arm unmarred by that mark, and the absence of it frightened him as he realized what was happening was possible. That Diggory or Albus might actually have the kind of power to completely erase his life.

Frantic now, his hand dove into his pocket, remembering one final thing. His fingers searched for it, praying for this one thing that would prove it was all an illusion.

"It's not there either."

"What?" Severus asked, searching his other pockets, praying he'd find it.

"Elizabeth's picture."

He turned out his pockets, searching for it, but Diggory was right. The picture of his family had gone, and in the space of a heartbeat, Severus realized the truth.

All of this was really happening.

"Diggory..."

"Call me Cedric, Professor, please."

"Cedric," Severus whispered, kneeling on the cold, hard ground, running his hand over Draco's name. "If Draco...what happened to Harry?"

"He...lived," Diggory said, putting his hands in his pockets. "He's alive."

Severus closed his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief. He knew Harry was strong, that he'd never needed Severus; not in the way Severus needed him. But their children... Would Harry have adopted them with another man? Surely he'd have adopted Jonathan, but what if Elizabeth had not run into Harry's robes instead? He needed to see them, to know that they were better off without him. That the two children he loved with all his heart were well. "I want to see my family. Where—" he cut off as his throat closed. He took a deep breath, the biting, freezing air burning his lungs, then asked, "Where is Harry? Where are my children?"

"_Your_ children?" Diggory said, narrowing his eyes and tilting his head, as though he could see through to Severus' heart, to every failure he'd felt as a father, to every insecurity, to every fear. "What do you—"

"Where are _my_ children!" he shouted, dragging Diggory's body down by his collar, and hitting his head against Draco's stone. "Where are they? I don't know how you've done all this, but I know you know! Tell me where they are!"

"They're exactly where they would be if you hadn't adopted them!" Diggory shouted back, straining as Severus' hands wrapped around his throat, his feet sliding against the cold, hard earth. "They're at the orphanage."

Severus' eyes went wide and he released him, standing up and grabbing for a wand that still wasn't there. Realizing he couldn't get to the orphanage without it, he turned to Diggory, pulling him to his feet by his collar. Diggory seemed resigned for Severus to argue, beg, or threaten his way into that orphanage; it hardly mattered what he had to do, he had to reach his children.

"I can take you there," Diggory said, holding out his arm for Severus to grab. "Just...don't do anything drastic, okay?"

Hardly able to do anything else, Severus nodded and readied himself for the discomfort of Side-Along Apparition. The sensation never came, and with a blink of his eye they were standing in front of a snow-covered cottage, a place Severus had never seen before.

"This is a place for the older children. The girls' room is over here," Diggory said, gesturing for quiet as they walked through the yard, their feet crushing the snow as they went. "Look..."

Careful not to get too close to the window, Severus peered inside, hardly realizing he was holding his breath as he did so.

The room was tidy and well-kept, if very small for the number of beds it held. It was empty and Severus thought he could hear the sound of girlish squealing approaching, and he bent his knees to conceal himself.

And then he saw her.

Elizabeth ran into the room, the other girls chasing after her, and though Severus couldn't tell what they were saying, it was clear they were intent on taunting her.

She grabbed hold of herself around her small chest and put her chin down, standing in a corner as the other girls continued their jeers. Without realizing it, Severus began to rise from his squatting position, not able to watch this for a moment longer, when Diggory put a hand on his arm to keep him there.

"She doesn't know you," he said sadly. "She doesn't have a father, and she's not likely to ever have one."

Just then a woman entered the room, her hands on her hips as she broke up the awful scene, shooing the other girls out before turning to Elizabeth. With a tired smile, she put a hand on her small shoulder and Severus felt his heart clench as he noticed Elizabeth's tears. The woman comforted her for a moment, her words going unheard by Severus, before a sound from the other room had her running, leaving Elizabeth alone.

There were no words, Severus realized, nothing to ask Diggory, no accusations to be made. There was just his daughter, crying, alone in an orphanage with no one to love her.

"Jonathan—?"

"He's with the boys," Diggory said. "Professor, can you imagine what it would do to that little girl if you—"

"Be quiet," Severus whispered, unable to take his eyes off his daughter, trying to resist the urge to go to her and take her in his arms.

"Do you want to see him?"

"No," Severus said, even as he forced himself to turn away from Elizabeth and follow Diggory to the other side of the cottage.

He almost didn't recognize him, this boy with short brown hair, this boy who was playing a game of Exploding Snap by himself. He seemed so lonely and so isolated sitting on his bed when Severus knew he'd be happier reading or working on his latest potion.

"I know you feel like you haven't been the best father," Diggory said, his tone reverent in contrast to Severus' swirling emotions, "but these kids love you. They need you."

He felt his heart break anew as he watched Jonathan throw down his last card in frustration, then tuck his knees under his chin. Severus watched as Jonathan looked out the window, not seeing Severus, his eyes revealing his loneliness.

"That boy...he's going to be brilliant at _something_ some day. Maybe potions, maybe something else, but..."

"I'm sure your son would be incredible at whatever he chose to do," Diggory said softly. "But that boy on the bed isn't your son."

"My family, the family Harry gave me—" His thoughts were torn from his children as he looked down at the ring finger of his left hand, which he only now noticed was unadorned for the first time since he'd married. Severus had never been a good father, but Harry had been an excellent one. He couldn't imagine what would have happened to keep Harry from adopting the children.

"Where's Harry?" he asked, running his fingers over the place where his ring should have been. The feeling of what had changed suddenly came to him: no Dark Mark, the weight of his ring gone. Everything had changed with just a few words from Diggory.

"There's something you need to understand, Professor," Diggory said, running a hand through his hair and looking far more disturbed than he had even a moment ago. "Voldemort—"

"The prophecy," Severus muttered, realizing that if all this were true, if he had never been born, that he had never delivered the prophecy that would lead to Lily's death. But if that event had never happened, then Harry—

"Harry defeated Voldemort," Diggory said, putting a hand on his shoulder in an awkward effort to comfort. "That was his destiny. But it happened...differently."

Removing himself from the equation, Severus thought over the last two wars, trying to determine what could have possibly happened. "Where's Harry?"

"Voldemort learned about the prophecy, but after the time he would have learned it from you. Rookwood was in the Department of Mysteries—"

"Where's Harry?" Severus asked again, dread growing in his heart.

"When his parents died, Harry was four," Diggory said forcefully, looking Severus in the eye as he begged him to understand. "He was _four_ when they threw him in the cupboard. He didn't grow up the way he had when you knew him. He remembered his parents, he remembered having enough food and a bed and a mother who loved him—"

"Where's Harry!" Severus shouted, once again grabbing Diggory and throwing him against a leafless tree. "Take me to him! Now!"

"Draco Malfoy wasn't there to help him," Diggory said, pulling his arm away for Severus to take again.

The snowy landscape faded away and Severus recognized a building on the far side of Hogsmeade. He turned around, having no idea which flat could be Harry's, and waited for Diggory to tell him.

"Professor Snape—"

"Which one?" he asked curtly, knowing he was not above pounding on each door until he found Harry.

"He was injured in the Final Battle. It was much worse because Draco wasn't there. Do you really need to see this?" Diggory looked to the floor and put his hands in his pockets. "Professor, I don't want you to see this if you don't have to. Can't you stop this now?"

"Which one?" Severus asked again, Diggory's words causing his anxiety to grow. Harry had survived the Final Battle, that was no great surprise. But there was something within him that was desperate to see him, needed to know that Harry still existed in this terrible world. He had to know that Harry had survived without him, that even without the children he could be happy.

Happy without Severus.

With a long-suffering sigh, Diggory said, "He's in number four, but—wait, Professor!"

Severus didn't wait. Not knowing what he would say if Harry truly didn't know him, he ran to number four, pounding on the door even as he realized the sun had long since gone down.

A moment passed and no one answered, and Severus nearly lost his nerve. What would be waiting for him on the other side of the door, he wondered. What would he do if he saw Harry in the arms of another man, a greater man than Severus, someone who was actually worthy of Harry?

His poor children had suffered in his absence, but Harry... Somehow Severus knew Harry would have been better off without him. Suddenly he thought he could feel the wards come down, then watched as the knob turned to open the door.

It was dark inside and Severus couldn't see a thing, let alone Harry. Using his shoulder, he tried to push the door open, only to have a wand pointing in his face a second later.

"Who are you?" a gruff voice asked from the darkness. "What do you want?"

Stilling at the sound of a voice so familiar and yet so different than the one he was used to, Severus looked up and was barely able to make out Harry's face in the darkness.

All words left him as his body went rigid, as his thoughts slowed and chest ached at seeing Harry's damaged face.

A terrible, angry-looking scar that ran from his forehead to his chin marred the brightness of his left eye, a burn scar disfiguring the other cheek. His shoulders were slumped and he held his wand in a shaking hand.

"Well?" Harry asked, his voice sounding hoarse from disuse. "Answer me. What do you want?"

It was then that Severus looked into his eyes, not able to hold back a reaction. Harry's eyes—which had always been so expressive, so bright and full of life that Severus could always find strength in them—looked dull and lifeless. They were the eyes of a man defeated.

"Are you from St. Mungo's?"

Not trusting himself to speak, Severus nodded his head, unable to stop his staring. How was it possible that this had happened to Harry? How could Severus' influence have possibly prevented _this_?

Harry lowered his wand and coughed out a dark laugh. "They sent a new guy to check in with the Boy Who Lived, then? Well, you can tell them my standard response: bugger off. I'm tired of all of you poking and examining me when there's nothing you can do to fix me."

He backed up a step to close the door and Severus noticed how he leaned heavily upon a cane and how his left arm lay lifeless at his side. Not knowing what else to do, only knowing he couldn't leave Harry like this, Severus put his foot on the threshold.

"Harry—" he whispered, not knowing what to say, or what could be done. He only knew that he couldn't stand to see Harry like this. Not when Harry had saved him, shown him a love he had never dared to hope for, given him a family of his own.

"Do I know you?" Harry asked, peering at Severus as though he was seeing him for the first time.

"Yes," Severus whispered in response. "Yes, you know me," he said, praying that all this could be undone. That he could have his life back, that he could have Harry and their children back, that he would never see Harry with that look in his eyes ever again.

Their eyes met and for a fraction of a second, Severus thought he saw a flicker of something, a recognition of what existed between them that even magic couldn't take away.

"No," Harry said slowly, blinking and turning away from Severus. "No, I think I'd remember _you_," he said, looking at Severus the way he'd seen Harry look at reporters. "Now leave. I don't know what they told you, but I can still use this," he said, bringing his wand up to point at Severus' heart. "You people have taken enough from me." Suddenly his face twisted, the scar tissue looking like it still pained him, and Severus wanted nothing more than to take him into his arms. "When is it going to be enough?" Harry asked, looking down to the ground.

Not knowing what to say, Severus remained silent, their eyes meeting one last time before Harry slammed the door in his face.

His hands shaking, his entire body a tightly wound coil, Severus stood there facing Harry's door, unable to deny the truth any longer.

By Merlin, what had he done?

"Diggory!" he shouted, turning and running to where he'd left him, only to find he was no longer there. "Diggory!" He looked around, but for the first time while on this terrible horror show of his non-life, Diggory was nowhere to be found.

The world seemed as though it were spinning around him, and all Severus could think was that he wanted to take it back. He didn't care about his life, but he couldn't force away the image of Harry's dead stare, of Elizabeth crying with no one to comfort her, of Jonathan's loneliness.

He stood there in the cold and the dark, thinking of his friendship with Draco and how it had grown over the years, of the Slytherins who needed his protection, of friendships that he'd nurtured for decades, all gone now.

Never in his dreams had he thought he could have had such an impact, that the life that had been all but meaningless to him could have affected so many others. But as Harry's face burned itself into his memory, he knew he was wrong.

He wanted them back. Even faced with a lifetime in Azkaban, he knew he needed his life back.

"Albus!" he cried to the sky, the clouds obscuring the stars. "Albus, I take it back. Diggory!" He spun around on the street, not knowing what to do, where to go or what could be done.

The only thing he could think to do was return to the place where this terrible mistake had all started.

In fear, he ran towards Hogwarts. Hogwarts, the place that had been his prison for more than half his life, seemed like his salvation now. He thought about his life, how useless it had felt even hours ago, how meaningless he'd thought it. And now he wanted it back. Pathetic little half-life it might have been, but he'd had Harry and a family and people who needed him. For their sake, he needed it all back.

He ran the entire distance from Hogsmeade, his lungs on fire, his legs aching as they hadn't in years. Panting, his soul in agony, he reached the edge of the lake and cried, "Albus, I take it back! Please, Albus, I want my life back! I don't care about myself, but please give me Harry! Our children!"

But the air was quiet, the soft ripples of waves on the lake its only response.

"Please, Albus, Diggory..." he roared across the water, listening for something, anything. "Please..." he whispered, burying his face in his hands.

What had he done? His chest churned, his insides squirming while his mind tried to think everything through. But, just as the wind whipped his robes around his ankles, his thoughts whirled and rushed, refusing to pause. Despair bore down on him, so painful it crucified him against a wall of loss, of agony, of all he had thrown away, and his every breath became ragged, tearing at his throat. He was lost now, with no home, husband or children to anchor him, to give his life meaning. Worse than that, he had condemned everyone he had ever cared about to misery.

What the _hell_ had he done?

Flashes of memory swept through his mind, recalling images of cherished scenes, of memories of times past, which flew out of reach before he could caress them. "No! Please!" He tried to latch onto them, to Harry's smile, to the children playing together, to keep them close before they also left him, like they had never existed.

Noises squeezed through the narrowness of his throat—noises he hadn't made since he'd been a child—emerging as a running murmur of pleading, the shameless wail of heartbreak Tears rolled down his cheeks and his hands tore at his hair as his body shook with emotion in a way it hadn't for decades.

The tears fell without ceasing, down his cheeks and onto his chin and neck. Suddenly, a drop of wetness fell onto his nose, then another and another as the sudden rain, falling hard now, shared his pain. They fell onto his shoulders, lying as though a weight was there, and he gasped, his mind stilling as a part of him began to remember how he'd felt such a thing before, how he'd felt the same sensation of being comforted.

The last time Albus had helped him undo a terrible mistake.

Slowly, he removed his face from his hands. "Albus?" he whispered, the name like a prayer, and the drops of rain pressed down harder onto his shoulder, as though a hand laid there. The despair lifted somewhat and he felt hope return, fearful of allowing it inside, but not willing to let it escape him either.

A new sensation ran through him, then he felt something else, a familiar weight on his left hand.

Terrified of what he wouldn't see, Severus looked down and there, on the third finger of his shaking hand, was the simple band of gold Harry had given him under a starry Arabian sky. With a groan of overwhelming relief, he reached out to feel it, his fingertips touching it, then running it over his lips and face to confirm it was really there.

"Yes," he whispered, then rolled up his left sleeve. The faded, black mark looked back at him and Severus thought he had never been so happy to see it.

"Oh...yes," he said again, reaching down into his pocket and finding his wand. "Yes." He held it in his hand, feeling a thrill of a different kind run through him as it sang for him once again, just as it had the first time all those years ago.

And one last thing—

Reaching into his pocket, Severus quickly found a folded piece of paper. With more joy than he'd ever felt, he opened it and saw the picture of his family—a family Harry had given him—looking back at him. With a bark of hysterical laughter, he traced the hair that took up nearly an eighth of the page, and the lightning bolt scar that accompanied it, before putting it back into his pocket as though it were the most precious thing in the world.

With a whirl, he spun around to take in the sight of Hogwarts in the dark of night. He smiled as he felt a strange sensation run through him, as though he were eleven years old again and was seeing it for the first time. He began to walk towards it slowly, his steps gaining momentum as he felt a weight being lifted, as though he was running towards freedom and not from it.

This place which he had hated so passionately, this place that he'd once thought had taken so much from him seemed so different now.

As he ran up the stairs, he felt his throat clench and held his breath as he made his way towards the stairs to the dungeon, exhaling deeply when he met them.

"Thank Merlin," he whispered reverently, dropping to his knees to touch the rough stone. Slytherin hadn't been destroyed. The children in his care had been preserved, generations of tradition hadn't ended.

And as he stood up and walked to the Great Hall, a new sensation flooded his senses: pride. Slytherin had always been a weight on his back, something that he knew had to be done, a burden meant for his shoulders alone.

But as he took in the four great tables, as he looked at the fourth hourglass that currently had the highest level, a deep satisfaction filled a place he'd always felt had been empty.

No, he hadn't cured lycanthropy, and perhaps the dreams he'd once held for his life would never be fulfilled now.

But he had this. This would be his greatest accomplishment, this was his life's work, the thing he could point to when his life had ended and he'd tell himself he _had_ done some good in this world. He wouldn't be ashamed to die now, not when he knew he'd won this small victory.

He'd saved Slytherin when no one else could, and the sudden gratification at the thought filled the empty space in him to overflowing.

But he hadn't done it alone.

Suddenly, the need to see Harry and his children was absolute. He needed to see with his own eyes that all had not been lost before the Aurors took him to Azkaban.

The sound of his boots filled the Great Hall as he made a mad run for Hogsmeade, muttering a prayer under his breath that everything had been restored.

He Apparated from the gates of Hogwarts to the main street of Hogsmeade, standing in the freezing rain and looking for the now-absent shady pubs, and breathed a sigh of relief. His fear somewhat quelled, hope renewed within his heart, he again reached for the wand in his pocket and Apparated home.

Not caring that the Aurors were probably waiting for him inside, Severus ran to the door, slamming it open as he called out, "Harry! Jonathan, Elizabeth!"

"Daddy!" Elizabeth screamed from the kitchen, running for Severus with her arms wide open.

He stopped in his tracks as he watched her running towards him, taking in her sweet face and the way her eyes lit up when she saw him before jumping into his arms. He quickly picked her up and kissed her cheeks, wrapping his arms around her and thanking whoever was responsible for returning her to him. Burying his nose in her hair, he squeezed her tightly, unable to stifle his sigh as he took in the smell of her peach shampoo and the feel of soft cotton in his hands.

"Dad!" he heard Jonathan shout, and freed an arm to pick him up as well.

"Jonathan," he said with a grunt, only to put him down a moment later. "Merlin, boy, what is your father feeding you?" He used his free hand to ruff up his long hair, taking in his smiling face. Something occurred to him while looking down on his son, something that should have been said some time ago. It had only been awkwardness and a sense of failure that had stopped him, but Severus saw his son now with new eyes. Leaning down so only Jonathan could hear, Severus looked him in the eye and said, "Son, you could never be a disappointment to me."

He watched as Jonathan's bottom lip quivered for a moment before he nodded and buried his face in Severus' robes. Grateful to have his son returned to him, Severus patted his shoulder and held him close.

Suddenly someone was clearing their throat, and Severus finally noticed the five Aurors who were standing in his sitting room. A small part of him smirked with a slightly sadistic pleasure that the DMLE had sent five men to escort him to the Ministry when any other man would have warranted two.

The pleasure took a different turn when he saw a familiar face. "Mr. Kinsey," Severus said with a happy sigh as he took in his former student.

"Professor Snape," he said, and Severus saw how hesitant he was to do his duty. "I'm very sorry, sir, but—"

"You're here to arrest me."

"We're here to take you in for questioning, actually—"

"That's fine," Severus said, looking around the house for the one person he needed more than any other. "I'll just be a moment. Harry!"

"Severus?" he heard Harry call from another room, his voice intact and hopeful, just as Severus had known it for the past fourteen years.

Not putting Elizabeth down, Severus began a walk towards the voice, when suddenly Harry was standing there in the doorway, his body whole, his face unscarred, and his eyes...

"Severus!" Harry sighed, then ran to him, mirroring Elizabeth's jump as he took Severus into his arms.

"Harry," Severus whispered, shifting Elizabeth to his hip so he could grab hold of him, the smell of home and family and a love he'd never again take for granted flooding his senses. "Oh, Harry," he said again, running a hand through his hair and kissing him—beautiful, familiar lips meeting his in joy and desperation, telling each other without words the depth of emotion between them.

"Severus, I think we've figured out what to do," Harry said, but Severus could hardly pay attention. He was too busy running his hand over Harry's face, needing to know he was real, that the nightmare had ended and he hadn't let slip the most important thing in his life.

Unable to help himself, he grabbed Harry to his chest again, holding him tight, unwilling to let go. "Harry," he said with reverence, whispering his name as though it was an endearment in itself.

"Severus, are you all right? What's gotten into you?"

"Dad, we figured out what to do to save you from Azkaban!" Jonathan said with a shout of excitement, and Severus watched as Harry wrapped an arm around him, bringing him in closer.

"No one person's testimony is enough to clear you," Harry said, as Severus put aside his relief and joy to hear him. "But if everyone—"

"Put the Pensieve in here, Rubeus," he heard Minerva say as she opened the door to their home. "This way everyone can—oh! I see you've found Severus."

"Minerva," Severus said with a smile he was no longer able to keep from his face. The sight of it must have been shocking, if Minerva's expression had anything to say about it.

"Severus," she said, her shoulders falling somewhat, but her tone losing none of its fierceness, "I'm so sorry for what happened. But my word still counts for something in the Ministry. So do the voices of many others." She drew herself up and held her wand to her temple. "I recall several meetings in those last days before the Final Battle. One meeting in particular where you gave Albus specific plans on how Voldemort would attack, how many Death Eaters he had at his disposal, and exactly what he planned on doing to Harry." She concentrated and added a silvery wisp to the Pensieve.

"And I might be your husband," Harry said from his side, "but I was there the day Dumbledore asked you to return to Voldemort. The day he was resurrected." He added his memory to the Pensieve, then kissed Severus. "A memory can't exaggerate."

Looking up, astonished, Severus noticed several other members of the Order, all braving the cold, bitter rain to come into his house and stand in a line to the Pensieve now sitting on a table in front of his family.

What appeared to be two or three people turned into more than a dozen as they all filed inside, casting warming charms on themselves as they stood in a line, all just to aid Severus. There were people he hadn't spoken to in years, people he'd swear had hated him, all standing there waiting for their turn at the Pensieve. Some were smiling at him, some gave him a solemn nod, but they were all there for him.

"Hello, Severus," Lupin said with a grin, then moved his wand to his temple. "I was there the night before the Final Battle. The night you returned from your meeting to tell us Voldemort was attacking at dawn." He pulled the memory from himself and said, "If that's not concrete evidence, then I don't know what is."

"Oh, thank God," Harry whispered from his side.

"Thank you, Remus," Severus said, smirking at the surprised smile that graced Lupin's face. Suddenly, he recalled that something grand had happened for Lupin today, something that he'd had a hand in. "I expect you'll be taking on a few more of the older years now that that little monthly problem of yours is soon to be resolved?"

If Severus had never spent a moment researching lycanthropy, the look of relief Lupin gave him was enough to tell him exactly what that disease had cost him. With a wide grin, Lupin nodded his head, and said, "Yes, I think so, Severus. I imagine I will."

With a sparkle in his eye, Lupin left and Ronald and Hermione Weasley stepped up, Ronald giving him a slow nod and Hermione smiling at the children. "We remember what happened after the Final Battle," she said, wand to her temple. "How you rarely left Harry's side, making potions for him nearly around the clock."

"That's a bit of an exaggeration," Severus said, the entire room chuckling at his protest.

"Still," Ronald said, "you were there. If you were such a loyal Death Eater, why would you bother saving Harry's life if he killed your master?"

"Guys," Harry said, "thank you." As they added their memories, he whispered to Severus, "Around the clock?"

"They're exaggerating."

Other members came and donated their memories, people he hadn't seen in years, people he'd forgotten had been in the room when he'd done or said a particular thing. Still they came: Dedalus Diggle, Arabella Figg, Mundungus Fletcher, Arthur and Molly Weasley, looking on him as if he were an old friend. Kingsley Shacklebolt greeted them with a smile, sharing his memories of the Final Battle, of things Severus hadn't known he'd witnessed.

Moved not only by their enthusiasm, but by the sheer number of people now standing in his sitting room, Severus could only give a nod and a thank you as they passed by, contributing memories that would hopefully save his life.

Severus lifted an eyebrow in surprise when Alastor Moody reluctantly limped towards the table, scowling as he said, "You might be a—" Noticing Elizabeth still in his arms, he grumbled, then said, "I don't want you to misunderstand what's going on here, Snape. If these people are giving their memories to help you, it's not because they like you." With a twist of his lips, he said, begrudgingly, "It's because we owe you. We'd have been caught by surprise that last night if it weren't for you. I was there when you helped secure the door to the Entrance Hall." Severus met his scowl as Moody added the memory, then joined the others who had congregated around the Aurors.

"Don't—say anything!" Harry said, putting a hand on Severus' arm as he took a step towards Moody. "There are Aurors in our sitting room, if you've forgotten. And speaking of..."

Harry reached a hand out towards the advancing Aurors, fidgeting with obvious anxiety as they approached Severus. "Wait, please. I know you have a job to do, but—"

"Draco's here!" Severus heard someone shout from the back of the room, and he smiled as he saw a familiar blond head of hair approach him through the crowd. As the crowd parted, he saw Draco's smirking face, his cloak sodden with rain.

"I came as soon as I heard," he said, Astoria and his children in tow. "I'd like to say I'm surprised by this, but then..." his words trailed off as he shook his head, thoughts of his father's treachery no doubt on his mind. "Listen, all of you," he said, turning to the Aurors, then back to Severus. "Severus, I'd be dead if it weren't for you, dead by the bastard who started all this." His face took on a look of extreme displeasure as he raised his wand to his temple. "You pushed me out of the way when my father tried to kill me, then you told me where to find Potter." The silvery mist left him. "Merlin knows what would have happened if it hadn't been for you."

"Thank God we'll never have to find out," Harry said with a broad grin on his face.

"Well," Draco said as the Aurors approached the Pensieve, "I'm hoping that word of this leaks out, that people actually remember what really happened, what Lucius tried to do. And maybe over time...they'll ease up on the Slytherins and you two."

"It's possible," Severus said, watching as the Aurors stood next to him, knowing they were hearing every word. "The Wizengamot has already cleared him from any charges, but—"

"Lucius Malfoy might control the press, but he doesn't control everything," Kinsey said stepping forward. "If word of this gets out—and it will—it might be enough to change things around here. Maybe not overnight, but..." Watching as Kinsey rubbed his thumb over the wand in his hand, Severus saw a shadow of the boy he had once been return to the man standing in front of him. Severus spied Moody and Kingsley standing in the corner, watching. When their eyes met Kinsey's, he saw the question being asked, and Severus held his breath as he waited for the answer.

Kingsley turned to Moody and lifted an eyebrow, then made a gesture with his chin. Rolling his eye, Moody stepped forward and said, "You take those memories to the Wizengamot. Have them look at them, then ask if they really want to put their Aurors in harm's way, bringing in Severus Snape."

"Yes, sir," Kinsey said, his shoulders sagging with relief, even as his confidence returned.

"And if anyone says a word, tell them I said to do it," Moody said with great reluctance as Kingsley laughed.

"I will, thank you, sir. Professor," Kinsey said, turning to Severus with a nod, then extended his hand, "it was good to see you again."

Feeling his heart leap in his chest, Severus took in the sight of that hand—a hand that wasn't reaching out to arrest him—and took it in his own as he felt a weight lift from his shoulders.

Though he'd begged for his life to be returned to him, it hadn't been for himself. He'd known he was asking for a life that was over, only wanting its return for the sake of Harry and their family, for Draco and the Slytherins. He hadn't considered the possibility that his life would be returned to him whole, and with something he'd never had before. The possibility of gaining his freedom and his pride, of knowing that he'd affected so many lives, seemed like an impossible gift.

"You can stay if you'd like, Kinsey," Harry said, looking back at the clock. "We're going to be celebrating your old Head of House's birthday in a few minutes."

With a smile, Kinsey conjured a glass vial and began to remove the memories from the Pensieve. "I'd love to, but I want to make sure this gets to the Wizengamot as soon as possible."

"Thank you, Mr. Kinsey," Severus said, breathing again as he realized he wouldn't be going to Azkaban, that the gift he'd been given had been far greater than he had imagined.

"No, Professor," Kinsey said, walking to the door and taking the other Aurors with him, "thank _you_."

He watched as Kinsey left, a sense of pride running through him at the knowledge it was with his help that the boy he'd once taught was an Auror today. It was an odd feeling, but an incredible one, and he grasped Harry closer to him as he watched the door close.

"Um, Severus," Draco said, pulling Severus from his ruminations. He looked sheepish for a moment before he removed a manuscript from his robes. "I, uh, saw the paper today. I'm sorry if it caused you any...stress."

"On the contrary, Draco," Severus said, ignoring a smirking Harry. With no little amount of awe, he remembered it was just this morning that he'd felt such jealousy towards Draco for his success. That feeling felt so distant now and he marveled at how much could change in a day. "I couldn't be happier for you...or more proud. You were my student once, after all. Your successes only reflect my skills as a professor."

A genuine smile graced Draco's face and he nodded, and said, "Well, of course. But just in case you wanted a bit more than just vicariously sharing my victory..." he drifted off, then showed Severus the manuscript.

There was the title, _A Treatise on the Cure to Lycanthropy_ and under that, thirteen names.

Severus' name was number seven.

Gently, he set Elizabeth down and took the manuscript from Draco's hands, hardly able to believe what he was seeing.

"How?" he asked.

"What do you mean 'how'?" Draco said, his tone incredulous. "Did you think I was telling my boss that _I_ was the one coming up with all these incredible ideas to get us out of the ruts we got ourselves into? I'm shocked, Severus."

"Oh, my God," Harry whispered, grabbing hold of Severus' arm. "Severus..."

"But Pearson..." Severus said, at a loss for words. "The paper this morning—"

"Yeah, Lucius runs that paper, if you recall. I believe they have standing orders to deny you any good press. Pearson's having a word with them tomorrow."

Again words failed Severus. He stood there mute, just staring at the parchment in his hands. His mouth opened and closed several times, but still no words good enough to express his amazement came to him. With a shake of his head, he gave up the attempt and settled for waving the manuscript through the air.

"Well," said Kingsley's voice from somewhere to his left. "Severus Snape stuck for words; and just when I thought Severus had run out of surprises. Now I'll be able to say I was present when the impossible happened."

The ensuing laughter freed Severus' tongue. "Draco," he whispered, running his finger over his own name, unable to take his eyes from it. "Thank you."

Smirking, Draco responded, "You were part of the team, Severus, whether you realized it or not."

Harry held onto his arm, then said, "Kids, why don't you go play with Ali and Vicky," and Severus was grateful his children wouldn't see him so overwhelmed.

"Ow!" Victoria cried a moment later. "Uncle Harry, Jon pulled my hair!"

"Ugh," Harry groaned. "I'll handle it," he said, running off to deal with the children, leaving Severus alone with Draco.

"Draco, I have no idea what to say," Severus said, giving him back the manuscript. "I never expected this."

"Obviously," he replied with a snort. "Well—there could be a chance things might change around here. And if they do..." he put his hands in his pockets and gave Severus an odd look, "would you consider finally leaving Hogwarts? Coming onto Pearson full-time? I really didn't take credit for any of your ideas. They're absolutely salivating for you over there."

It was the offer he'd always wanted, Severus realized, an offer that would come with no strings attached, unlike Lucius' transparent bribe ten years before. Unable to respond, Severus stood silently, his thoughts in turmoil.

"I'm going to have a long talk with Jon later, but at least he's behaving at the moment," Harry said, coming up to Severus' side and wrapping an arm around him. The warmth of the embrace, the ease with which Harry held him, comforted Severus and left his mind suddenly very clear.

And in that moment of clarity, Severus understood he had everything he'd ever wanted with him. Regardless of whether things changed or not, he was still responsible for generations of children's futures. Suddenly, the thing he'd hated for so long took on a new light, as he realized he'd answered his calling at the age of twenty-one. And all these years he'd been denying it, thinking he was meant for something greater when really he'd been unable to see the importance of what he'd originally misjudged.

And then there was Harry...

He had no desire to sacrifice even a moment of his time with Harry. Not one meal in the Great Hall, not one late-night marking session, not one stolen kiss or conversation between classes.

He had everything he'd ever wanted. And he'd had it all along.

The life which had been restored to him suddenly seemed like the grandest of gifts. Closing his eyes for the space of a heartbeat, he thought back on the nightmare he'd just lived through. He saw Elizabeth weeping, Jonathan alone, Harry scarred and broken. When he'd begged for his life back, it had been for their benefit. Now, after all this time, he was finally able to embrace his life for himself.

Opening his eyes, he looked down on Harry, whose eyebrows raised almost comically as he wondered what was happening. "Thank you, Draco," Severus said, his eyes never leaving Harry's, "but I believe my place is at Hogwarts." He gave a small smile as Harry tilted his head with a silent question, frowning as he looked towards Draco.

Nodding his head, Draco gave a knowing smirk and said, "Well, as long as you're going to be researching on the side, I might as well tell you about our next big project."

"Yes," Severus said, his hands already aching to solve another problem, but his mind not yet ready to let go of his current euphoria. "I look forward to hearing about it."

"Thanks for showing up, Draco," Harry said, his tone resolute as he extended his hand.

With a smile, Draco took it, and said, "You're welcome, Harry. I see Elizabeth finally showed you how to tie your shoes."

"She did, actually," Harry said with a proud smile, "and congratulations on not eating your children. I know it must have been tempting for you."

Draco chuckled and said, "That was a good one, Potter," before he turned around to mingle with the crowd.

"That bastard," Harry muttered under his breath.

Severus grumbled, rolling his eyes at how two grown men still behaved so much like children, and put a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Some things never change."

Stopping in his tracks, Draco turned from a conversation he'd just begun with Lupin and said to Severus, "Oh, I almost forgot. Horace said to say hello. He said to tell you he has a bottle of wine he's waiting to share in celebration of your victory." Then Draco turned with a smile, and continued his talk, Severus once again wrapping his arms around Harry, holding on for dear life.

"Well," Harry said, turning around in his arms and running a hand through his hair, "this has been one hell of a day. What happened to you?" he asked, putting his hands on Severus' shoulders and returning his embrace.

Severus was just about to tell Harry he'd share the entire story later when the clock began to chime the hour, and everyone present began wishing him a happy birthday.

"Happy birthday, Severus," Harry whispered and kissed him. His waist was then hugged by an excited Elizabeth and a nearly bouncing Jonathan.

"Is it time for presents?" Elizabeth asked.

"Yeah, why don't the two of you go get them?" Harry said with a laugh, smiling after them as they ran up the stairs.

At the sound of a herd of elephants running around on the top floor, Severus lifted an eyebrow.

"What? It's your birthday, Severus," Harry said, poking him in the chest. "You get presents."

"Father?" Elizabeth said as she came down the stairs, holding something large and wrapped in bright yellow paper in her hands and giving it to Harry. "What's this?"

Frowning, Harry unwrapped the object and his eyes went wide. "Oh...wow," Harry said, and Severus watched as he took the most splendid broom he'd ever seen from the ridiculous paper. "It's a broom, sweetheart, but I've never seen it before. Where did you find it?"

"With Daddy's presents."

With a knowing smile, Severus took the broom in hand, and ran his fingers over the handle, finding a tag hidden in the bristles. Though he knew to whom it belonged, he couldn't help the smirk that twisted his lips when he saw the handwriting, and—though it had been twenty years—recognized it immediately. It really did look as though an owl had tried to nest in the ink.

_Professor Snape,_

_I thought the kids (and Harry) might enjoy a ride on the broom. I certainly don't need it anymore!_

_And remember: you've done a lot of good, but you're not done yet. I'll look forward to seeing you, much later._

_Thanks,_

_Cedric Diggory_

"Severus?" Harry asked in amazement as he read the note over his shoulder. "What—"

"A gift from a mutual friend, Mr. Potter." He turned to his children and said, "Your father will show you how to ride it _tomorrow_ when he might actually have a chance of not falling off."

"Severus, how—"

"Later, Harry," he said, interrupting Harry's bumbling, even as he took the note from Severus' hands. "Right now I believe our guests require refreshments." He took a look around the room and its inhabitants and frowned. "If they somehow acquired proper eating habits in the years since the last Order feast, of course."

Harry continued looking at the note, astonished, as the broom was being passed around by the guests. "Is this real? How—oh my God!"

There, beneath the fold of the note, was one hastily-written line, the handwriting also familiar to Severus.

_Snape,_

_Aside from Harry and the kids, I would be more than happy to live in a world where you never existed._

_- SB_

"That bastard," Severus said, grabbing the note from Harry's hands, as Harry was running a finger over the line reverently.

With a look of awe, Harry took it back, and Severus was reminded of why it was so easy to love him. When faced with something impossible, something that required an incredible leap of faith, Harry had no problem diving in head first to believe, whereas Severus had needed to see it with his own eyes.

Copying Severus' smirk, Harry leaned up, note in hand, and said, "Some things never change. You're going to tell me about it, aren't you?"

Taking Harry's face in his hands, Severus kissed him lightly and whispered, "Later. It's a very interesting story...one I'm sure you'll be horrified to hear. Now," he said, looking for one guest in particular, "perhaps Molly would help us cut the cake?"

"Why do you assume we made you a cake?"

"You always make me a cake," Severus said, finding Molly in the crowd and silently asking her for help.

With a warm smile that never ceased to amaze him, Molly nodded and went into the kitchen with Harry, allowing Severus a moment to reread the note in his hands.

Reverently, his fingers traced the words, his heart thankful for the miracle he'd received. Never in his most imaginative dreams did he think he could ever find himself so content. The life he'd once had to justify to himself on a daily basis now looked far brighter for Diggory's help. He folded the note and put it in his pocket, knowing he'd have to thank his Guardian the next time he saw him.

"Well done, Mr. Diggory," Severus muttered under his breath. "Well done."

"Everyone!" Draco said, standing on a chair and commanding the floor as Harry entered the room with an enormous chocolate cake, Molly trailing him with a tray full of drinks. Severus thought he heard Harry mutter something about attention-seeking ferrets when Draco took a glass and lifted it into the air.

"I'd like to propose a toast!" he said, and everyone raised their glasses. "To Severus Snape—the greatest man to ever pass through Slytherin!"

Severus watched as every person raised their glass, smiling at him and repeating Draco's words.

As he looked on in wonder, Harry nestled into his side and whispered, "To Severus Snape—the greatest man I've ever known. Happy birthday, darling."

Severus grumbled at the endearment, but accepted Harry's kiss all the same. Entwining his right hand with Severus' left, Harry leaned closer to him and snuck a hand to the small of his back, using his hip to move Severus in a gentle sway. As their guests began to pass around cake and enjoy their drinks, Severus found himself easily distracted by Harry's touch, ignoring everyone around them as they moved.

"Such a romantic, Potter," Severus said, rolling his eyes as he realized what Harry was attempting to do.

"Am not. I just love you, is all. You bring it out in me. So I was thinking..." Harry said, his voice soft, "after everyone's gone, after we put the kids to bed...you, me, a little dance in the back garden?"

Severus smirked, and if his hand moved to Harry's shoulder, it was only because he had a stray piece of lint there.

"I believe you promised me a different sort of dance for my birthday. On my hands and knees, as I recall, then you riding me to completion," he said in his bedroom voice. "And besides, I don't dance, Potter. Not for another thirty-seven years, at least."

"Thirty-six," Harry said, spinning them in a circle. "And it's your birthday, so we can do both. Today was a very big day for you."

"It's freezing outside, and it's raining," Severus said, leaning down to put his cheek against Harry's. "And I don't dance."

"No, of course not," Harry said, and Severus could feel his smile. "But this won't really be dancing. More like a swaying...in light circles. Dancing in the loosest definition."

"Oi, someone put on some music for Snape and Harry to dance to!" Weasley called out over the crowd. "They just look barmy dancing to nothing."

The crowd laughed and someone turned on the wireless, a light jazzy tune making the perfect accompaniment to their movements.

"A very big day," Harry said softly, his motion stilling. "I'm so happy for you, Severus. Pearson, your freedom...did you get everything you wanted?"

Whether he realized it or not, Harry had asked a very large question, but one Severus felt he should answer, especially now. Looking around the room, he took in friends, old friends he'd never known he'd had, people he hadn't known had cared about him. He watched as Jonathan played a game with Alistair, trying a little too hard not to look at Victoria, and as Elizabeth watched him and Harry with a smile.

Then he turned back to Harry, running a finger over a cheekbone, then taking him into his arms. The one good thing in his life then turned into the best thing, he realized as his heart filled to overflowing, his soul singing as he felt his embrace returned. "I already had it."

"Ow!"

Casting a quick look over Harry's shoulder, Severus grumbled under his breath as he saw Jonathan pinch Victoria, then rolled his eyes as he heard Draco prattling on about how often he had to pry him and Harry away from each other on their dinner dates. Glancing around the room, he noticed Moody was muttering to himself in a corner and he swore Hagrid was about to break one of their nicer chairs.

With a sigh, Severus realized the holiday would be ending in a few days, and soon their sitting room would once again be filled with Slytherins, at least for a while longer.

No, his life wasn't perfect. But it was so much better than the alternative, and so much better than he'd ever thought it could be.

Holding Harry closer, Severus kissed his cheek, and felt his hope renewed, the holes in his life filled up as he reflected on his greatest gift. Silently, he thanked Albus and Diggory, knowing he'd thank them again one day.

But not for a very long time. After all, there were still miles left in his shoes: students to teach, potions to create, children to raise, a husband to enjoy life with. And besides all that, despite their current swaying, he still owed Harry a dance.

Looking down at Harry and their family, Severus thought that Paradise could wait. For now, he was more than happy to enjoy the heaven he was in.


End file.
